


All things wicked

by andeemae



Series: All things wicked [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Sabé/Obi-Wan, Phantom Menace from Sabé’s POV, Previously posted elsewhere, Retelling of the prequel trilogy from Sabé’s POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23856013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andeemae/pseuds/andeemae
Summary: Even the brightest beginnings can lead to darkness. Sabé must learn to navigate the universe and determine her own future, no matter where the stars incline.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Sabé, Padmé Amidala & Sabé
Series: All things wicked [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752160
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada.
> 
> AN: First attempt at the Star Wars universe. I try to stay as close to canon as possible, but I originally wrote this years ago and some of the previous canon has been changed, sorry about that. I updated it, but I'm sure there's still some stuff I missed. 
> 
> I have this story planned in three parts, to show the three prequels from Sabé's pov, but we'll see how far I get into that. I originally posted this in 2018, and have been debating cross posting here, so this and the follow up story are completed. The third story is in a rough draft, and as much as I’d like to say it’ll be finished, I can’t make that guarantee. I want to work the Clone Wars in, more than I have, and it requires a lot of rewriting that I just haven’t had time to commit to. Anyways, I plan on posting a chapter a week for this installment and the follow up. They stand alone well and I enjoy them. Thanks for reading.

"I wish I were like a star."

A warm breeze ruffles Sabé hair as a laugh cuts through the night.

"Gassy and distant?"

Sabé rolls her eyes and snorts. "No. Bright. Guiding."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You know, stars are brightest right before they die right?" Saché tells her, grin widening.

"Yeah, but they can be seen for ages afterwards too. They're still…beacons, guiding people to their destinations. Guiding them home."

"Or sucking them into a black hole," Saché snickers.

"You are just a right little ray of sunshine, aren't you? Massacring a perfectly lovely analogy."

Sabé listens to her sister, Saché, laugh loudly, it echoes across the courtyard.

"Just remember, sissy, the stars can only incline, they can't determine where you actually end up," she reminds Sabé, her laughter still vibrating in the air.

Their fellow handmaiden, Rabé's, eyes widen and she shushes them frantically.

"Will the two of you please be quiet? If the Captain catches us out here he'll skin us alive!"

Saché snorts. "The captain can bite my ever widening backside. What is the Trade Federation going to do? Snipe us from one of the moons? Besides, we aren't hurting anyone."

Rabé bites her lip. "He's worried, he's just trying to be careful. Dangerous times and all."

Sabé sighs.

She does feel slightly guilty climbing out her window with the other two, but as Saché had said, they weren't hurting anyone and they were still on the palace grounds. They just needed a walk. Without having to be in formation, or having to keep straight faces, or any of the other million and one things Eirtaé insists they do.

"What'll we do if we run into a guard?" Rabé asks still looking anxious.

"Club him over the head and have our way with him," Saché answers flatly.

It was Sabé's turn to snort. "If Eirtaé hears that you'll give her a stroke. How uncouth!"

"Remind me to say it when she's listening then."

She schools her expression into the most regal and haughty look she can muster and sticks her nose in the air as she turns to her sister.

"Though, I'm fairly certain she'd murder me first. Disgrace that I am."

Rabé smiles weakly. "She's only trying to make us look and act the part of cultured ladies, don't be so hard on her."

Saché rolls her eyes. "Rabé, you've gotta learn to lighten up a bit. I simply adore TayTay! But she keeps her cheeks squeezed so tight it's a wonder she hasn't exploded from all the gas building up in her."

Her arms swing out wildly, and she flings herself unceremoniously onto a patch of grass.

Rabé and Sabé sit on either side of her as she rolls onto her back and tugs a large, exotic looking flower with her as she sits up. Closing her eyes, she sighs, an uplifted look on her face.

"What are you thinking about?" Rabé inquires, trying and failing to look relaxed..

"Nothing," Saché grins, eyes still closed.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing? Glorious, wonderful, freeing, nothing."

Rabé shoots Sabé a confused look.

'What is wrong with your sister?' she seems to ask, though she doesn't voice the question.

Sabé , who has just over fourteen years of dealing with her slightly mad sister, simply gazes blankly back.

Sometimes it's fun to simply sit back and watch people decipher her sister's antics.

Rabé looks back at Sache. "Nothing?"

Saché slowly opens her eyes and gives Rabé a politely confused look, as though nothing should be the most obvious thing in the world.

"Nothing...everything but anything"

Rabé's shoulders sag and she gives a withering look to her fellow handmaidens. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Anything is…the Trade Federation"

"And the rationing of food," Sabé adds.

"And proper protocol."

"And keeping your elbows at a ninety degree angle when walking."

"And not doing that."

"And," Rabé lights up, finally catching onto the game, "stepping with your right foot first!"

"Exactly!" Saché smiles.

Rabé frowns again. "But I still don't know what nothing is?"

"Nothing is…boys, no men!" Saché giggles.

"New shoes!"

"Comfortable shoes."

"Dancing!"

"Only if it's in my new comfortable shoes," Saché mumbles, eyeing her calloused feet sadly.

The girls continue on for a while longer, clearing their heads of all the anything they can and going over all the nothing they can without squealing too loudly. When they finally climb back through their window, past the deeply sleeping Yané and Eirtaé , they're more contented than they had been the past week. Rabé quickly falls asleep, but the sisters still have much too much anything floating around in their minds.

"Saché?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you awake?"

"No."

Sabé rolls over and smiles at the dark lump in the bed across from her.

"Do you think the chancellor's ambassadors will end the blockade?"

The Saché-lump shifts. "I don't know…I hope so. We're at the end of our rope here. Something's about to happen though, I can feel it. Can't you?"

Sabé frowns. "Yeah, it's like the air is…heavy, odd, uncomfortable."

"Sabé , I don't know what is going to happen, but whatever does," there's a sharp intake of breath, "be careful. Promise me you'll be careful."

"Only if you do," Sabé whispers and stretches her hand across the gap between the beds. She feels her sister's little finger link with hers.

"Always."

#######

Saché glares up at the sky, arms crossed.

"This is intolerable."

Somewhere above them, out of view but present, the Trade Federation is strengthening their blockade, threatening to strangle Naboo.

"They won't win, Sach," Padmé assures her, eyes not leaving her datapad, still composing what Sabé is certain will be strong appeal for assistance from the Republic and words or encouragement for her people.

It won't help, but Sabé admires her dedication, her hopefulness.

Naboo isn't important enough, powerful enough, to garner much attention. If they're lucky, someone will take pity on them and send at least a delegation to investigate. Sabé doesn't have nearly as much optimism as her Queen though, in that regard.

Besides, no one seemed to even believe they were being blockaded. It was such a pointless exercise on the Trade Federation's part that most of the galaxy was happy to pretend it was either an exaggeration on Naboo's part, or not even happening.

There was no logic in it, and their constant denial that it was even occurring made it just as baffling.

Sabé shakes the questions away. She isn't going to divine the true meaning behind the Trade Federation's senseless moves, and trying to is only going to give her a headache.

Padmé will figure it out. She's their queen for a reason after all.

"This is cruel." Saché shakes her head, sighs loudly ash she dramatically flops back on the lounger on the veranda. "I'm going to miss the exciting conclusion to the Luke Absolom bacta arc on Corellian General."

"Oh, shut up, Saché," Eirtaé snaps. "There are more important things in this galaxy than your stupid holodramas!"

Saché doesn't defend herself, simply makes a rude hand gesture in Eirtaé's direction. Apparently, of all the indignities they've suffered recently, losing her life line to sordid, scripted holodramas with bad acting is the last straw. She's too angry for words finally.

Before Eirtaé can begin lecturing on proper protocol and behavior, how Saché was an embarrassment to all handmaidens, Yané and Rabé distract her with a question about proper footwear.

Picking up her own datapad, Sabé steps onto the veranda and pulls the doors shut behind her, cutting off Eirtaé's detailed knowledge of Corellian verses Alderaanian flats.

"You just enjoy riling her up, don't you?" Sabé asks as she settles herself at the end of the lounger and flicks on her datapad.

Saché chuckles. "Who wouldn't? She's ridiculous."

Rolling her eyes, Sabé snorts. "True as that may be, please don't needle her. Padmé has enough on her plate without the two of you bickering all the time."

"Oh, baby sister, Padmé wouldn't notice if Eirtaé and I had a good old fashioned veermok wrestling match in the ballroom," she waves a hand dismissively. "She's focused. That's why she's queen and I-I am but a lowly handmaiden."

Setting her pad down, Sabé nods, gnawing on her lip.

"Saché? Do you think they'll send help? They've been promising ambassadors for ages now and no one has come."

Because Sabé is certain they're doomed. She's an excellent student of history, and small besieged planets aren't often on the upside of these kind of disputes.

For a moment she's quiet, the silence only broken by the rush of the waterfalls echoing in the distance, then Saché sits up.

"I don't know," she shrugs, trying and failing to look unbothered by her uncertainty. "But if anyone has a snowball's chance in a Mustafar summer of getting us any, it's Padmé. Besides, the stars burn brightest in the darkest nights, and if we can see those stars, there's hope."

Sabé nods, trying to force down the knot forming in her stomach. Lorrdian proverbs, pretty as they are, aren't the most helpful. "Yeah."

She's not being entirely truthful, every fiber of her being tells Sabé that. She can read her sister like book. She isn't lying, not strictly speaking. Padmé is the only person in the galaxy that might be able to rouse support for Naboo, but Saché hardly believes she's going to be able to do it.

Saché reaches out and squeezes her sister's shoulder, forcing a smile. Her half-truth hasn't brought Sabé comfort, she knows that, and her expression is clearly an apology.

"It's a curse sometimes, being able to read people so well," Saché finally says. "Things would be so much simpler for us if we could just lie every now and then."

"You lie constantly," Sabé reminds her.

"But not to you, Sissy," she reminds her, grinning. "Like I said, it's a curse."

The doors burst open a second later, just as Sabé is about to pick her pad back up and indulge in silly stories about people with much simpler lives, lies she can't read through, and Yané trips out.

She stumbles over the hem of her gown before spotting the sisters.

"Saché! Sabé! Get in here!" She squeaks, flagging her arms, the ridiculously large arms of her handmaid's gown flapping loudly as she urges them to come.

Knocking her datapad to the ground in surprise, Sabé hurries in, Saché at her heels as they rush through the sitting room and to the chamber adjacent to it.

It isn't a hopeful scene that greets them.

The holoprojector is on, blue light bathing the ground around it and the image flickering. Padmé and Captain Panaka are both staring at it, expressions equally stormy.

On it, the grim news flickers in from Coruscant, more of the same useless political double talk and no one offering any real solutions for the small, besieged planet. 'Ifs' and 'Maybes' peppering the speech, promising everything and nothing in a single breath.

"This is pointless!" Padme shakes her head in irritation as the figure drones on. "Don't they know every second they sit and debate they are straining us to the breaking point!"

Rabe gives her a sympathetic pat on the hand. "I don't know, m'lady."

"Even if they did I doubt it would make much of a difference to them," Sache mutters darkly, so low only Sabé hears her. "They're taking their sweet time sending those ambassadors they promised."

Letting out a huff, Padme turns on her heels, "I have to go work on my speech for tonight, though I don't know what I can possibly tell everyone. There is no news either way."

With that, she leaves, Eirtae at her heels. Sache lets out a sigh, glancing at Sabé.

"That snowball is melting."

#######

Naboo's troubles aren't confined to simply not being able to get Saché's favorite holo for long.

"Dammit!" Saché curses, slapping the projector as if flickers feebly. "This stupid thing is new!"

Yané crawls under it and begins to fiddle around, searching for the source of the problem.

They'd just received a communication from the Supreme Chancellor, giving them the slimmest hope in the form of the promised ambassadors' arrival date. A delegation was being dispatched to negotiate an end to the blockade, finally.

"They'd better negotiate aggressively after all the waiting they've made us do," Saché grumbled. "This blockade has gone on long enough."

Sabé nodded, gnawing her lip as the image spoke, promising 'a swift resolution' to their 'troubles'.

"Troubles? Is that what this is?" Saché had muttered, glancing at Sabé. "Troubles, Sabs. They act like our conservator has gone out and spoiled our food."

The message hadn't even finished when the image blinked out.

Yané crawls out from the projector, frowning deeply. "There's nothing wrong with it."

"What do you mean? Of course there is. It's not working is it?" Saché asks, an annoyed glare settled on the obviously malfunctioning projector.

Yané shakes her head, her expression baffled. "The projector is fine. The connections are fine. I don't know what the problem is."

A loud bang draws their attention, and Padmé comes storming in followed quickly by Eirtaé and Captain Panaka.

"They've knocked out our communications!" Panaka growls, shooting the projector a dark look.

"That's not a promising sign is it?" Sabé whispers under her breath to Saché, now looking uncharacteristically somber.

The Republic finally deciding to step up and help had apparently spurred the Trade Federation into action.

"This is just step closer to what we had feared from the beginning," Panaka tells them. "They must be preparing for a full scale invasion."

Padmé's face is drawn tight with fury. "I agree with Captain Panaka, this move is more aggressive than anything they've done so far. They're getting bolder. An invasion is growing more and more likely."

Grim faced, Captain Panaka leaves Padmé's side as she begins strategizing out loud, Eirtaé taking notes on her datapad.

"Sabé, if it comes to that, if they do invade...I have to ask, are still prepared to take up the mantle of decoy?" Panaka's voice is kinder than she's ever heard it. He knows the position she's in.

It hadn't been long ago, not really, when they'd been selected as handmaidens for the newly elected queen, when Sabé's resemblance had first been noted.

"And being Lorrdian gives you an extra advantage," Panaka had told her, a little too cheerfully. "You and Saché will be able to mimic her absolutely."

"Now I see why they recruited us," Saché had grumbled, eyeing her hair critically. "The little Lorrdian girls can pass on kinetic mimicking. Boy are they in for a shock."

The kinetic communication and mimicry skills of their ancestors wasn't something easily passed on. They'd spent their entire lives using it. It was as natural to them as breathing.

Their attempts at teaching it had been exactly as successful as they'd both anticipated.

Still, they tried, all while Sabé and Saché studied Padme's every gesture, manner of speaking, the way she carried herself and how she walked.

"You're so much better at this than me," Sabé had complained to her sister as they'd retreated to their quarters, in their early days in Theed. "You should be the primary decoy."

Her sister could fool anyone from any corner of the galaxy. She could be a weequay or a twi'lek and no one would question it.

She was also braver.

"I don't know if I'll be able to do this. I'm not-I can't pretend I'm not afraid."

Saché had laughed at that.

"Being brave isn't about not being afraid, sissy. It's about barreling on even though you are. That's what Gram always says, remember?"

That hadn't been quite as comforting as she'd clearly meant it to be. Their grandmother's wisdom rarely was.

Whatever Sabé's feelings, she did barrel on. She'd chosen to be a handmaiden. This was simply part of her duty.

"You know I don't like this Sabé," Padmé's voice breaks through the memories. "I won't ask you to do this for me."

She'd apparently noticed Panaka and Sabé's change in demeanor and stopped her planning to investigate.

Her back is straight and her jaw set, gaze steady. She's every ounce the queen her people had chosen. She's terrified though. Leading her people against an invasion is one thing, possibly sacrificing a friend is another.

"It's the little things that get you in the end," Sabé hears her Grandmother's voice tell her, some dusty memory peeking out in a time of need. "No one cares about a massacre until they break it apart, show you the lives lost. A single soul means more to anyone than a hundred dead eyes."

Padmé cares about her people, but she loves her friends, and it kills her that it's come to this.

"You won't," Sabe finally assures her, voice falsely steady, part of the illusion that she's more than just a scared girl who happens to look like someone important. "It's my duty to help our people and my honor to help my friend."

It's an honest truth, one of the few she's ever been able to tell. She'd made a vow to protect her queen, but she's protecting a friend too now, and that's infinitely more important.

Beside her, Saché moves, a gesture so small it's imperceptible to anyone but Sabé.

'Be brave, little sister' she tells her.

She knows Sabé is being honest, but she also knows she's terrified.

Padmé's expression eases, though Sabé can still see the anxiety clawing at her.

"Thank you, Sabé." She forces a smile. "But let's still hope it doesn't come to that."

Yeah, Sabé thinks wearily. That would be the worst.

#######

The worst, as it so often does, did came to pass and Sabé found herself dressed in the ridiculous and uncomfortable Queen's garb.

"I look like a feather duster!" She complains as Eirtaé secures the unwieldy headdress.

"You look royal and regal," Eirtaé counters.

"Royal and regal are clearly coded words for 'stupid' and 'impractical'," Saché mumbled, just loud enough for Sabé to hear.

Before Sabé can so much as laugh, give her sister a silent look and let her know she appreciates her levity among the chaos, she's shoved forward.

Everything happens so quickly, she barely registers where she's being marched, before or after the Jedi arrive.

She's on autopilot. The only thing she recalls later with any detail is Padmé silently giving the order for Saché and Yané to stay behind and her big sister's wide brown eyes pleading with her to be safe before rushing off with little Yané at her elbow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada.

Sabé feels bile coming up the back of her throat.

She's in it deep now.

Well, at least that's the only conclusion she can come to as she's ushered in the incredibly uncomfortable dress, with even more uncomfortable shoes than normal, with what Saché and Yané had dubbed "The Duster" firmly affixed to her head. Her head swims as she tries vainly to process everything that had so quickly come down on her.

They're going to Coruscant. They're going to plead their case to the senate. No, the Queen is going to plead their case to the senate.

At least that's what she hopes is the case. Flustered nerves and fear had stifled Sabé's abilities. Padmé hadn't helped things. Her playing the handmaiden had made her less animated, cutting the subtle cues down to a fraction.

"Padmé, if you ever give me such a convoluted order ever again, queen or no queen, I will suffocate you with one of these horrid dresses," Sabé finally snaps, once they're alone.

Padmé grins. "You did great though! I knew you would get it."

"Well that makes one of us," Sabé grumbles, reaching up and adjusting her headdress.

"What are we going to do?" Rabé mutters, wringing her hands and sinking down the wall near the door.

"We are going to Coruscant. We are going to save our people," Padmé states simply, as if it were nothing more than a shopping list.

She turns to Sabé.

Padmé's eyes flicker and her jaw clenches ever so slightly, deciding what her orders to her decoy will be. Before she even utters a word, Sabé nods. She already knows.

"Continue on with the Jedi, we'll have to trust their judgment for now."

Rolling her eyes, Padmé smiles. "It's scary when you read my mind like that, you know?"

Sabé huffs, not bothering to correct her that it isn't mind reading she's doing.

If Saché were there, she'd remind them.

"It's kinetics, Pads, mind reading is that karking force talk," she'd tell her. "I'm no jedi."

A snort of laughter almost trickles out before it dies in Sabé's throat before it finally hits her.

Saché, with her sharp tongue and quick words, will probably drive the invaders mad and they'll shoot her just to hush her. Their Nammy, who is already in poor health, is going to be rounded up. She'd left them at the mercy of…

"Sabé?" Padmé gently places her hand on Sabé's shoulder, smiling sadly. "They'll be alright. Saché is, well...she's Saché. She could talk her way out of a boloball riot. Plus she has Yané with her. Careful, cautious Yané, she'll keep her out of any real trouble. And your grandmother is stronger than you think."

Sabé forces a weak smile, pretends her friend has given her even the smallest of hope.

Rabé makes a strangled noise and trips over her robes, sparing Sabé further comfort. "They're coming!"

"Get in your places!" Eirtaé hisses. "Sabé, don't grin or get cheeky."

"Remember to ask some questions though, we need information," Padmé adds. "And try to figure out a way to get me out of the throne room. I want to see if I can find anything out on my own."

"And keep your back straight, if you lean forward too much you're liable to fall over, this thing is so heavy!" Rabé reminds her as she pulls back, more upright in the throne.

Sabé bites her lip in frustration and twists her hands together. Why couldn't Saché have been the decoy?

"And don't fidget, queens don't fidget!" Eirtaé hisses.

Sabé grinds her teeth, nearly snapping that this queen will fidget as much as she likes, but stops herself and instead still her hands.

This is going to be a disaster.

########

Fantastic, Sabé thinks grimly as Captain Panaka and the Jedi update her on their status.

Apparently when they'd been hit during their escape, their hyperwhatsit, which apparently is somewhat important, had been damaged.

It was just what they needed, because things were going so smoothly before.

Then, looking irritated, Panaka turns to the Jedi, both unnaturally calm.

Panaka's sour mood quickly gets an explanation.

The Jedi want to go to Tatooine, a place Sabé has heard of only in passing, and in less than pleasant terms, and Captain Panaka is less than thrilled about this.

His expression is clear: tell them no.

Padmé's face, the determined glint in her eyes and the twitch of her cheek give Sabé the only orders she has to heed.

Captain Panaka will be furious with her, but he isn't queen.

Do as the Jedi request.

So she does.

Sabé feels as if she's watching everything unfolding before her from some distant point outside herself after that.

She hears herself, she's aware she's speaking, but it's all echoes off distant walls. Passively, but flawlessly, she takes in the information and plays her part as she's learned it.

Still her mind floats back to Naboo with her family, worry clouding her thoughts. Thankfully no one seems to notice.

"I hope everyone got away. I can't stand the thought of them in some dreadful camp," Rabé's tearful voice finally breaks the uncomfortable silence of their quarters.

Sabé blinks. She doesn't remember leaving the throne roam.

Reaching out, she absently pats Rabé's hand in a comforting sort of way.

Maybe, she isn't certain. She isn't sure she's much good at comforting, especially at the moment.

Closing her eyes, Sabé begins jogging through the day's events.

Being stuffed into the Queen's garb, being threatened by Nute Gunray, walking, talking, not tripping, all at the same time, being rescued, being fired on, and now waiting for the Great and Powerful Padme to come back to their quarters. Her stomach has an empty feeling in it.

Sache, she thinks, please be safe, don't do anything stupid.

'Oh Sissy!' She almost hears Saché chiding her, 'don't be ridiculous, of course I'll be safe and I won't do anything stupid.'

Stifling a watery giggle Sabé tries to focus her energy into finding something about this awful situation that Saché would find amusing. It's a gift her big sister has. No matter how bad things get, Saché always sees...well, maybe not the bright side, but at least the funny side of things. Her face breaks into a grin.

"It really is a pity Saché didn't get to come with us." Sabé barely suppressed her laughter. "Did you see the younger one? Obi-Wan wasn't it? She's going to be so jealous!"

Rabé's cheeks brighten as she giggles and Eirtaé lets out a huff.

"No, it isn't, actually. I don't know if even the Jedi have the patience to deal with that big ball of hormones you seem so determined to pass of as a human being."

Sabé and Rabé burst into giggles, and after a few shocked seconds Eirtaé's cool composure falls apart and she dissolves into fits as well.

"What's so funny?" An amused voice asks from the door.

"Saché's eventual, all encompassing, disappointment," Sabé manages between gasps.

"The Jedi?" Padmé asks, already knowing the answer. "He is rather nice looking, I suppose."

Rabé looked incredulous. "Rather nice looking? Oh Padmé …"

Sabé has never been more grateful for her white face paint. She's certain she would be a brilliant scarlet if not for it.

'Rather nice looking' is not how she would have described him. Perhaps she has spent far too much time with her sister.

"Did you learn anything new?" Rabé asks pleasantly as she begins taking the headdress off a greatful Sabé .

"Not much," Padmé huffs and drops irritably onto one of the beds. "The Gungan was useless for information and he was really the only one I had any chance to speak with, aside from Panaka, and he said the same. Plus a bit more grumblings about reckless Jedi."

Eirtaé frowns. "What's going to happen once we get to this Tatooine? How are we going to get whatever that part is anyways?"

"From what Captain Panaka said the Jedi-Qui Gon I think-is going to go into one of the settlements to try and barter for parts. He's going to take the droid, and the Gungan with him," she looks thoughtful for a moment, then her eyes lit up. Sabé already knows what she's about to say. "And me."

Sabé groans.

"No!" Eirtaé shouts, shaking her head. "Your Highness, you can't! It's too dangerous!"

"If you want information about what's going on send one of us!"

"You could be killed." Sabé gave her a horrified look. "Then I'll be stuck as queen!"

"I won't be killed, I'll be with the Jedi, and you will not be stuck as queen," Padmé corrects them, shooting Sabé an exasperated look.

"No, the people of Naboo will stone the damn fool handmaidens that let their headstrong queen traipse about on what is clearly a wild and treacherous planet, full of rapscallions and vagabonds!" Eirtaé finishes, gesticulating emphatically, trying desperately to force the Queen to see reason.

Rabé and Sabé 's eyes widen as they watch Padmé and Eirtaé glare one another down, neither wanting to blink and acquiesce to the other.

Finally, Eirtaé lets out a long sigh, rubs her hand over her face. "Please, please, please reconsider this. It is a VERY bad idea."

Padmé 's mind is already made up though.

#######

The handmaidens make due with going over what the Queen wants them to do in her absence, standing orders, and constantly reminding her she must not do anything more dangerous than she already is.

"You'll all be safe. The pilots and Captain Panaka will see to it. Plus you'll have the young Jedi you're so fond of." She smirks. None of the handmaidens returned it.

"Oh come now," she scolds them. "That was a joke."

"It's not very funny, m'lady," Eirtaé mutters stiffly, pressing her fingers to her eyes.

Padmé sighs, "Just listen to the Jedi, he'll undoubtedly be in contact with his master more often than I'll be able to be with you all, and Captain Panaka is always here if you need anything else."

And just like that, the discussion is over.

When they land Padmé quickly gathers up her things and gives each of her handmaidens hugs.

"Don't kill anyone," she tells Eirtaé .

"Don't let her kill anyone," she whispers to Rabé .

"Don't worry so much," she reminds Sabé.

"One of us needs to," Sabé grumbles in response.

And then she's gone, leaving her three handmaidens with nothing but time and worry on their hands.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada.

Sabé twirls her necklace between her fingers and lets out a long sigh.

She's bored, utterly and completely bored, and Padmé has been gone less than a day.

Rabé is at her right, setting stiff backed with her hood pulled over her eyes. Sabé greatly suspects she's drifted off to sleep. Eirtaé, ever the perfectionist, is at attention to her left. Probably, if Sabé were to hazard a guess, going over the proper order to use her cutlery in if she's ever at a banquet in Bandomere or coming up with a new way to organize her undergarments or something else equally useless.

Sighing again, Sabé leans over onto her arm and begins drumming her fingers absently in stiff material of her dress.

"Don't do that," Eirtaé mutters.

Rabé startles awake, blinks dimly around. "What?"

"Nothing Rabé," Sabé assures her before yawning broadly. "What does it matter Eirtaé ? We're the only ones here."

"Someone might come in and think of how it would look if the queen was sitting there looking dazed and her handmaiden," she glares across at Rabé, "asleep."

Rabé and Sabé exchange guilty looks.

"Sorry."

"Yes, Eirtaé ."

They go back to setting mutely in the stuffy, daylight less room, all on the cusp of falling asleep after that.

Sabé begins to daydream about what Saché and Yané might be doing. An image of Saché doing a victory dance on a pile of droids and then being carried off by a boloball team sprang into her mind. She quickly covers her laugh with an over enthusiastic cough that earns her a sharp look from Eirtaé.

Finally, after what feels like hours, Captain Panaka and the Jedi come strolling in, barely receiving an announcement from the droid posted at the door.

"Your Highness, my master has run into some difficulties in acquiring the needed parts for the ship. Apparently republic credits carry no value here."

Wonderful, Sabe thinks, if they suggest we sell one of the handmaidens into slavery I'm volunteering Eirtae.

"You wouldn't happen to have anything of value we could use to barter?"

She ponders the question for a minute, racking her mind for something they could sell.

They have their horrid dresses, but really they weren't something she could see fetching a decent price, especially not on such a backwater planet as this. There was some jewelry, a few blumfruit hidden under Sabé's mattress that Eirtaé hadn't confiscated as a possible stain producer, and buckets of makeup, none of which would be worth anything.

"I'm sorry Ambassador, I'm afraid we have nothing that would be of any use," Sabé finally admits, her insides squirming at the disappointment on his face.

He nods, gives her a little bow. "Thank you, m'lady."

Sabé feels a flood of relief wash over her when the young Jedi finally turns to leave. She's passed a test, in a way. Maybe Eirtaé will stop being so critical now.

Her excitement dies a heartbeat later.

The Jedi turns back to her, his expression odd, scrutinizing.

"Is something wrong, m'lady?" he asks.

Her stomach drops into her feet as she forces her face to remain impassive, even as she gets the uncomfortable sensation the man in front of her is trying to peek into her soul.

"No," she tilts her head, regal and defiant, daring him to doubt her.

To her relief, he doesn't. He simply leaves with the captain following slowly behind.

The door has no more swished closed when all three girls let out sighs of relief.

"What was that about?" Rabé asks, wringing the hem of her gown in her hand and worrying her lip in her teeth, eyes still on the door.

"Jedi can read minds," Eirtaé groans. "I'd forgotten."

Sabé shakes her head. "No they can't. They can...sense emotions, or something like that. If you're weak willed they can make you tell them things or bring things to the front of your mind, but they don't just passively read them all the time. I don't think so anyway."

She certainly hopes not.

"Either way," Eirtaé gives the other two a disgusted look, "we need to be more guarded with everything."

Sabé 's shoulders droop. So much for getting a break.

The rest of the day passes by agonizingly slow.

Sabé envies Padmé for escaping the dull insides of the ship. She also wants to strangle her for leaving her handmaidens to struggle through it alone.

At the end of the day, Rabé and Eirtaé quickly let exhaustion overtake them and their soft snores quickly fill the room.

Sabé , however, tosses and turns, put the pillow over her head to stifle the echoes of snores, pulls her blankets over her head tightly, throws them off, lets her hair down, puts it back up, flops on her stomach, back, left, right, but nothing seems to help. Her mind refuses to rest.

After hours she finally manages to drift to sleep only to be roughly awakened, what seems like minutes later, by Eirtaé and Rabé pulling her up and stuffing her into the black headdress and gown again.

"Not so tight," she grumbles, tugging at the neckline. "I can't breathe."

"If you pass out we can blame it on stress," Eirtaé snaps back.

"Well there's a bright side," Sabé huffs. "And Saché says you're a pessimist."

Before the argument escalates, Captain Panaka comes in and ushers them to breakfast.

Breakfast melts into another long, dull afternoon.

Then the transmission comes.

If Sabé had felt sick before it was nothing compared to what the flickering image of Governor Bibble brought with it.

Catastrophic. Death toll. Snatches of his transmission flitted in and out of her already frantic mind.

Nothing is said of Saché and Yané.

The Jedi tells them it's a trick, that they are not to answer, and then he strides out, leaving Sabé confused, frightened, and more likely than ever to lose her lunch.

Captain Panaka lingers for a moment and expresses his reluctant agreement with the Jedi's assessment of the situation.

"Even if it is true, answering them would do little more than give away our position." He runs a weary hand over his face. "I hate it, but I agree: we can't answer."

His smile is pained but sympathetic as he adds, "I'm sure everyone is doing fine. No news is probably good news."

Eirtaé, in a rare show of humanity, doesn't even have it in her to scold Rabé when she finally breaks.

A strangled sob escapes her throat before she crumples to the floor.

Sabé silently hugs her, mutters what must be comforting words as she shakes and sniffles, worries aloud about her parents, brother, the boy in the guard she'd been seeing.

"They'll be fine, Rabé, they'll be fine," she repeats, over and over again, hoping it isn't a lie and wondering about her own tiny family.

They aren't affluent like the other girls'. They have no political weight, only shaded connections, backroom alliances that will be forgotten as soon as it's convenient. No one is going to risk their position for an aged madam or her illegitimate grandchildren.

Is her sister even alive? Her Nammy? Are they going to be nothing but forgotten collateral damage when all is said and done?

What's the point of going and pleading their case to the senate if there's no Naboo to go home to, at least in Sabe's case?

Eirtaé's breath shudders, but she doesn't let the tears shining in her eyes fall. She's still playing her part, but even she needs to fall apart at some point.

"Tay," Sabé calls to her, and despite her desperate attempt at stoicism, she rushes to the other two girls and falls into their embrace.

Silent tears run down Sabé's face, ruining her makeup when she wipes the back of her hand across her cheek.

They cry, hours seem to tick by, until they're left with nothing but sniffles and red rimmed eyes.

Eirtaé doesn't chastise them, simply helps them right their garments and makeup enough to be presentable before leading them to their chambers for the night.

They skip dinner, none of them have appetites anyway, and turn in early.

"Some sleep will do us good," Eirtaé tells them, her facade of calm back in place.

Both Rabé and Eirtaé fall asleep quickly, too exhausted to sit up and worry, their snores filling the room, but Sabe finds herself even further from sleep than the night before.

She stares at the chrono as first one, then two, then three hours skip by before she sits up, frustrated and exhausted.

"Are you asleep?" she whispers loudly out to neither of the girls in particular. There's no answer, not that she expects one.

Squinting into the dark, she sees the other two sleeping, oblivious to her restlessness.

Sighing, Sabé kicks off her blankets and sneaks out of bed.

Snatching up Rabé's cloak, she silently wraps it around her and pulls the hood up before manually opening the door and slipping out.

One lap of the ship. That's all she needs. A few moments to be Sabé and not think, or to think of nothing.

Nammy's wine.

Dancing.

Music.

Sundresses.

Simple hairdos.

No matter how hard she tries, she always came back to Governor Bibble's message, to the people left behind, to Yané, to Nammy and Saché.

It's too much to force from her mind, for her body. Her stomach, empty and angry, turns violently, forcing Sabé to take refuge in a storage closet to vomit up bile and water.

When nothing more will come up, Sabé fall back against the wall, covers her mouth and silently sobs.

She's a fraud, a terrible decoy, an awful sister and friend, and now she's made a mess...

Curling up on the ground, she presses her hot cheek to the cool metal and close her eyes.

She wants nothing more than to be still, just for a little while. Let the universe spin and the wars rage, but let her just be still.

Finally she looks at her wrist chrono.

She startles up when she sees two hours have passed.

Shifting herself and wiping her eyes, she steadies her breathing and prepares to head back to her room. She needs towels, and she needs to hurry. Eirtaé will never let her hear the end of it if she doesn't get this righted before someone sees it and thinks the queen is ill or weak.

Then, to her horrified shock, the door opens up.

There, looking down at her in all her disheveled and puffy eyed glory, setting next to a puddle of her own vomit, stands the the young Jedi.

If it's possible to die of mortification, Sabé thinks she will.

"M'lady," his calm voice floats down to her. "Are you alright?"

Of course, Sabé mental snaps, this is how 'alright' girls behave.

"I'm fine," she murmurs into her knees, hiding her face. Perhaps he'll assumes she's Rabé.

"I can tell you're distressed."

Despite the situation, Sabé rolls her eyes, hidden by her cowl. He can tell she's distressed? Can he now? What gave it away?

She bats the voice, which sounds more like Saché than herself, away. He's only trying to help.

There's a rustling of fabric and she feels the heat from his body as he kneels in front of her.

"You're under a great deal of stress. It's only natural you should be worried," he tells her.

"Of course," she croaks, her voice still scratchy and raw from being sick and crying.

He sits down cross-legged in front of her, apparently prepared to offer his less than helpful comfort for however long she needs it.

Despite herself, she peers out from under her hood, carefully keeping her face hidden behind her knees.

Concern emanates from him, and if this were any other time in any other situation she would be touched, no, thrilled, to have a handsome man willing to set in a storage closet with her even with vomit on the floor.

Well...maybe not thrilled.

Now was not anytime though. There's too much at stake, too much hinging on appearances, and this is not the appearance they're trying for.

"It's obvious why I'm up," she finally tries to steer the conversation from herself, "but why are you?"

He grimaces, shoots her an apologetic look."Well…you have a very loud gag reflex."

Sabé suddenly wishes she were wearing the white stage makeup.

"I'm so very, very, very sorry," Sabé groans, smashing her face into knees, desperately trying to hide the blush. "I can't believe you've been out there this whole time."

"It's all right," he reassures her. "I was meditating. When I got to the door you were quiet, so I decided to wait it out. I was actually going to wake you up soon…it wouldn't do for one of the crew members to find the Queen of Naboo asleep in a supply room."

Sabé's stomach drops.

It's over. If she doesn't die of embarrassment Panaka will kill her. Or Eirtaé will.

She lets out a long, listless sigh and peaks back over her knees at him.

"Would it do me any good to try to convince you I'm Rabé?"

He chuckles, shakes his head.

"I'm afraid I don't sense your handmaiden, my lady." He pauses, looks as if he might say something else, then thinks better of it, before adding, "Don't worry, I won't tell a soul."

Nodding she tries to stand up.

"I really should be getting back to my room," she mutters, not even bother with the court accent, the illusion is useless at this point.

A hand is in front of her in the blink of an eye.

The Jedi is already standing, offering her his hand, before she's even up.

Hesitating briefly, she places her pale hand in his and lets him pull her up. His hand was warm and rough and she catches a clean, soapy smell hanging around him.

Glancing up, Sabé smiles, battles down the fluttering feeling in her stomach.

He really is handsome…

She shakes her head. This isn't the time, no matter what her sister would say.

"Oh no," she groans, looking back into the closet. It's still a mess. "I need to…"

She makes a sweeping gesture.

He chuckles. "Don't worry m'lady, there are droids for a reason."

She flashes him another tense smile from under her hood and starts back for the room.

"Shall I escort you?"

Sabé shakes her head. "I found my way here, Master Jedi, I can find my way back, I assure you."

He grimaces. "I'm not a master, m'lady. Only an apprentice."

"That hardly matters to those of us who aren't Jedi," she tells him. "You're all mysterious, powerful beings. Master or not."

His eyes settle more firmly on her, seemingly attempting to look through her soul, as he ponders her words.

"Some might say that." He frowns. "Obi-Wan. It you would, m'lady. Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Nodding, Sabé smiles. "Goodnight, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Turning, Sabé hurries off, not waiting for him to return the pleasantry.

It isn't until she's back in her quarters that a cold sense of dread comes over her.

The Jedi had seen her in an absolute moment of weakness and the Queen is not supposed to have moments of weakness.

She's undermined the strength of their leader in a time of unrest and uncertainty. They need the confidence of the Jedi, and vomiting in a closet isn't the way to that.

Restlessness and worry once again overtakes Sabé's mind as she searches for a way to correct her mistake.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada.

The next morning, after yet another sleepless night, Sabé is once again dressed as the Queen.

She feels a bit like a large doll, stiff haired and ornate gown, being dragged to the galaxy's worst tea party.

The only comfort she finds is that the Jedi has kept his word and told no one.

Still, her nerves stay frayed, even as Captain Panaka updates them on their missing members.

"They were caught in the sandstorm," he tells them between bites of breakfast, his expression tense as he gnaws on a Dressellian prune. "Hopefully they've found a way to get the parts. I hate to think what we'll do if we can't."

He doesn't say it, but his worry is written in every move he makes. They're in a hopeless situation, and with every minute that ticks by Naboo sinks further into chaos.

Before Sabé sinks entirely into panic, thoughts of being sold into slavery filling her mind, something resembling a bright spot of hope finally appears.

Obi-Wan had come into the throne room, robes billowing around him, and told the Queen and her attendants that his master had come up with a plan that, if it worked, would get them off this rock.

Somehow Sabé felt he wasn't giving her the whole story. Obi-Wan's demeanor was more reserved than it had been before, his gestures less open, less glistening in his eyes, and Sabé had a horrible feeling he was holding back some key points. Her nighttime meltdown had cost her his confidence in her ability to handle less than pleasant news.

The rest of the day Sabé sits in silence, desperately trying to find a way to win back the Jedi's confidence, while Rabé and Eirtaé are unusually chatty, discussing at length what the plan might be.

"You don't think it's anything too risky do you?" Rabé had frets, chewing her lip.

"Padmé won't let him get too reckless," Eirtaé tells her, looking obnoxiously confident.

"But," Rabé fiddled with the hem of her gown, eyes wide, "she is just Padmé right now. Even if she is supposed to be acting on the behalf of the Queen, there's no guarantee he'll listen to some silly little handmaiden."

Sabé nods grimly.

She hadn't gotten the impression that the Jedi Master was one to listen to advice, especially when the giver of the advice was someone he felt didn't have as much enlightenment about the situation as he did. Someone like a handmaiden.

By the time the night rolls around again Rabé and Eirtaé have spun hundreds of possibilities for the plan, each as unlikely as the next. Sabe greatly doubts the solution is as simple as scrambling a junk dealers mind, otherwise they would have been in Coruscant already.

"Sabé," Rabé said, her face creased with worry. "Are you feeling alright? You're looking a little peaky."

"Gee, Thanks."

Flopping over and glaring at the wall Sabé pretends to go to sleep.

Much to her relief, the other two seem to believe her fake snores and that she really has gone to sleep. They stop directing questions to her, then grow quieter and quieter.

Eventually each of their breathing level off. Rolling over Sabé props herself up and checks to see if they're sleeping. Several minutes later, content that they, unlike her, truly are out for the night, she sneaks out once more, taking one of the handmaiden robes with her.

She needs to fix the situation with the Jedi. She needs to speak with him and make it perfectly clear that the other night was an aberration, that she is now back in complete control of her emotions and that he must keep her fully informed of what his master is doing.

Quietly making her way down the dark hall she searches out the store room she'd been in the night before. His room must be near it for him to have heard her.

Cautiously, she peaks behind the door across from the store room, but there's nothing but food. She checks in every room and down every hall from the store room but still no Jedi. Miserably, she rakes her hand through her hair, knocking her hood off with a huff.

He had to be around.

"M'lady?" An accented voice comes from behind her.

Involuntarily, she gasps, yanking her hood back on, her hair flying into her face. Very queenly.

She slowly turns and tries to gracefully push the errant strands of her hair behind her ears. Her face burns.

"Jedi Kenobi," she manages to say, carefully keeping the cowl over her eyes.

"Were you looking for something?" There's a trace of amusement in his voice.

She wiggles her nose, lets out a little puff of air to get the hair out of her face, and tries to compose herself. "Yes, actually, I was. I was looking for you."

She feels his eyes on her, senses the smirk he surely has on his face. "I wish to have a word with you about last night."

"Oh?'

Sabé nods. "Yes."

A moment passes in silence, then another, before Sabé irritably breaks it.

"If you would be so kind that is, sir."

"Would a store room be appropriate or is the hall fine?" He asks finally, the amusement stilly coloring his voice.

Sabé's face burns even more. Now he's mocking her. Fantastic.

"Actually, I was searching for your quarters," she keeps her voice even and emotionless despite the overwhelming desire to burst into furious tears.

This should be simple. It had been in her mind. Find the Jedi and demand respect due a ruler in as regal manner as possible. She should've known it wouldn't go so smoothly for her.

"Ah," he leans forward. "I'm afraid you've been looking on the wrong level. I've been staying on the lower deck."

Taking a deep breath, she nods. Jedi must have extraordinary hearing. She'll remember that next time she's having a meltdown in a closet.

"Wherever you think we could best speak in private."

"I would say my quarters would be best, however, I feel it might be frowned upon by your Captain Panaka and handmaidens for you to go there."

Irritated, she nearly snaps at him, just barely containing herself enough to coolly reply. "As long as this conversation is kept private I see no reason any impropriety should be implied if that is your concern."

His booted feet turn sharply and she sees him walking in the opposite direction.

Damn.

She'd been rude. Not intentionally, she's just so very tired and he seemed to want to make this more embarrassing for her than it already is…

Before she can call out an apology, he turns.

"Are you coming m'lady?"

Startled, she realizes he wasn't dismissing her, just leading the way. Somethings are easy to miss when you don't look up.

They walk silently down the hall, then down some short stairs, until they're in a small, open area with a pallet on the floor. Sabe's stomach drops when she realizes he doesn't even have a proper room. Maybe she should have one of the pilots switch on and off with him until they reached their destination. She's technically the Queen still, she can demand better arrangements.

"I've been in worse places, m'lady," he tells her, his voice kind.

She shifts uncomfortably, unsure if their ruse was up before it had even started. "Can you read minds, Jedi Kenobi?"

"Not really," she hears a smile in his voice. "I can just sense emotions. Yours, however, are written on your face."

Brilliant, Sabé mentally groans. She'd have to get ahold of that better.

He settles down onto his pallet, letting Sabé gracefully set on a pillow he pushed out for her use.

"Jedi Kenobi," she begins, hoping her voice is as strong as she's willing it to be. "Regarding last night. I feel I may have given you the impression that I am not capable, or emotionally sound enough, to handle the unpleasantness that accompanies our current situation. Let me assure you, this is not the case. I am more than able to handle whatever news, good or bad, and indeed I must be kept completely informed of the goings on of your master. Our lives and the lives of our people are in your hands, and having such little control over our own fates puts us in a vulnerable place. Surely you can appreciate that?"

She nearly sighs when she finishes the overly practiced speech, grateful not to have stuttered once.

"Of course, m'lady," he answers somberly. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I was withholding information because I believed you unable to handle it. I was being concise in an effort to leave you to your other, much more relevant, thoughts. Such as how you will deal with the Senate once we reach Coruscant."

Sabé fidgets uncomfortably. She'd twisted a kindness into an insult.

"My apologies, Jedi Kenobi," she nods, wishing for a better offering.

"Not necessary. I can understand how you might have come to that conclusion."

He leans towards her, lowering his head, trying to look at her better. Probably planning on using a Jedi trick on her.

Sabé counters by lowering her chin further; pressing it firmly against her chest.

"M'lady, is there some reason you are so determined to not look at me?"

Yes, she thinks irritably.

He's seen too much of her already. The use of a decoy only works if no one ever takes a good look at the decoy. Too much familiarity with her will make it that much more obvious to him when Padmé is back as the Queen.

Her stomach flops, then growls, loudly.

She nearly laughs.

If things weren't bad enough, now her body is making involuntary noises.

If Eirtaé doesn't kill her for being a complete ninny then Padmé will for making the Queen look like the galaxy's most ridiculous school girl.

"No...I'm simply not...feeling my best and wish to at least maintain some semblance of…composure."

She fights back the urge to groan. That was the best she could come up with? She had never been this discombobulated before, she'd never blushed this much before…

"As I said last night, it's understandable you should be feeling anxious and I don't think less of you for it," he says kindly. "You're only human."

Slowly she raises her head slightly and finds him looking at her intently.

Before she can stop herself she blurts out, "You aren't going to muck it up to youth and hormones? When I'm at home that's what my s-friend always blames when she loses her head."

He chuckles, "I don't think those causes ever crossed my mind."

He has a very nice smile. He should do that more often, she thinks before scolding herself. This isn't the time.

"How is it that you're managing to stay so calm?" She asks sincerely.

She at least had Rabé, Eirtaé , and Captain Panaka, however little comfort they often are, to talk to if she really needs it. He's stuck on a ship with complete strangers.

"Meditation," he answers lightly.

"You haven't tried to kill Captain Panaka, and he's even rough around the edges with us." She grins. "Meditation takes away the urge to throttle the rude?"

Kenobi shakes his head. "Jedi training teaches us to let go our emotions. Be one with the Force and do what is best. I don't think throttling your captain would be what is best."

"No, I suppose not," she shrugs. "It seems impossible to let go your emotions though."

"It's not."

She looks back at her fidgeting hands, willing then to still. "Aren't you only human as well?"

"I'm a Jedi, we have to rise above those human ties to do what must be done," his states simply.

Sabé laughs softly, "So you're not human? You do an uncanny impression."

He chuckles. "I've spent my whole life learning to control my mind and to put the needs of others above my own. To be humble and serve. To become attuned to the Force and let it and not my emotions control me. Something perfectly within the grasp of a human."

"But...why serve, why put the needs of others above your own, when you don't have any real connection to them? If you truly do let go your emotions that is." She frowns. "Emotions are what connects us to one another."

When she looks at him again he's frowning deeply, as though she's said something very troubling. "Connections...attachments, they can lead to the dark side. They must be handled with care."

"They can also lead to good things to though, right?" She shakes her head, smiles weakly. "I don't think I would make a very good Jedi. My family, we're very emotional. I'd be a disaster at controlling it."

He gives her a sympathetic smile. "We are taken to the Temple while very young. you wouldn't have had that influence guiding you, m'lady."

"You don't remember your family?"

Somewhere in Sabé's mind she remembers being told that Jedi steal children, but she'd never met anyone who'd had a child taken. It was a distant concern to her, a sad footnote to her knowledge. Now it's a grim reality.

"That's…so sad. Don't you feel like a family though? With each other, I mean. You would be sad if one of them left or died?"

"Of course," he answers, his voice no longer quite so even, "but we would learn to let go once the time of mourning passed."

Sabe slumps slightly. "You remember them though? Right? It's important to remember."

That's what her Nammy always says.

He nods, trying to appear steady, but Sabé can see she's hit a nerve of some kind. "But not to dwell. It can't consume you, control you."

Sabe studies her fingers, trying to pick her words carefully.

"I think sometimes you need to have something to control you to some extent. Serve as a reminder…both of the good and the bad. You sometimes need a passion to guide your actions."

An odd look passes over his face, something she'd call worry in anyone else but can't quite place on a Jedi.

"A difference of philosophy then."

"My," she halts and looks up, into his eyes, hoping she's reading him right, that she can trust him, "my m-my friend's mother...she died when my friend and I were very young. Killed herself. Overdosed. She abandoned her children when they were young and helpless. She wasn't strong."

She's had to be someone else for too long. It's a relief to be just Sabé for a moment, even if it's a mistake. Her words won't stop tumbling out.

"Her Nammy took them in. She's such a strong woman. I can't imagine anything ever making her leave if she could help it. I can't imagine ever abandoning anyone I love either. That's the control they have over me. I see it as a positive thing."

Out of her peripheral vision she sees a hand reach out and softly come to rest on her still moving ones and gives them a squeeze of understanding.

"You've not abandoned your people your highness. You've done a very brave thing deciding to go to Coruscant, and your people will know that. Under the worst of circumstances you made a hard choice, but the right one."

Her stomach flip flops.

"You make me seem much more selfless than I am. I did what I had to, given the choice I would have sent someone else in my place and stayed behind with my family."

Confusion passed over his face. "You did have the choice, m'lady."

Pulling her hands from under his warm ones she corrects herself. "I meant if I had the choice again. Considering how things have gone so far."

He still looks confused at her slip of the tongue.

"M'lady," he begins. "May I ask you a question?"

Sabé shrugs. She can hardly keep him from it.

He leans forward and ducks his head, finally catching her brown eyes with his blue-grey ones.

"I get the sense you are not being completely honest with me."

She cocks her head slightly, now familiar with the sinking feeling in her stomach. "I'm not quite sure I know what you're talking about."

"I cannot read minds, m'lady, but I can sense emotion, in a manner of speaking. I, however..." he gives her a searching look. "You emotions are...muted, perhaps, to me."

Insides sinking Sabé lets her face pull into a haughty expression. Her emotions have been maddening, and now they were going to get them all in trouble.

"Rest assured I'm simply anxious to make my case to the Senate and help my people. Nothing more than that."

Kenobi doesn't seem completely convinced with her explanation but nods nonetheless.

"My apologies, m'lady," he murmurs.

Feeling she's repaired her image as much as she can, and hoping she hadn't damaged it even more in the process, Sabé makes a move to get up. As had happened the night before, Kenobi is on his feet faster, helping her get to hers.

Giving him a perfunctory nod, Sabé speaks with her court accent again, though she knows it's a loss by this time.

"Thank you Jedi Kenobi. Again, please keep this conversation between ourselves, not even your master if you would."

He nods, smiling slightly. "I see no reason this should come up."

With that, Sabé makes her way back up to her room, feeling calmer and reasonably assured that Jedi Kenobi didn't think her completely incompetent. Or at the very least he won't tell anyone he feels so.

She crawls quietly back into her bed and rubs hands together. They still tingle where his hand had grasped hers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada.

Despite feeling she has somewhat repaired the queens image with Kenobi, Sabé still rests fitfully. She's as exhausted the next day as ever, while everyone else is all slightly on edge waiting for the news of whether Master Jinn's plan has worked.

"If it fails and we're stuck here indefinitely what will we do?" Rabé asks, worried eyes on the other two.

"Get incredible tans?" Sabé mutters, more to herself than anyone else. Eirtaé still manages to hear.

She shoots Sabé a sharp look. "Stop being so pessimistic."

"That was my optimism," Sabé grins.

Eirtaé simply scowls. "That's your sister talking."

She then sweeps out to see if Captain Panaka has any news, making sure to scold Sabé on her posture before forcefully hits the pad to the door.

"I wish Yané and Saché were here," Rabé sighs with a wistful smile. "They always seem to make even miserable times bearable."

Sabé twists her hands together.

Saché and Yané, despite having vastly different personalities, did have the uncanny ability to make the even the worst situations tolerable.

Yané's sweet nature and open eagerness to prove herself and please others, especially to the older handmaidens, makes her agreeable and helpful.

Saché is acerbic, to the point of being a hindrance at times, but she's also witty and warm. She'd find the humor, however dark, in every disaster they've faced.

Together, they'd balance each other out. They'd make this misery a little more bearable.

Rabé sighs again and begins sculpting Sabe's hair.

The look on Rabé's face is so pitiful, so dim, that Sabé can't take it.

Ducking away from Rabé, she jumps over to her bed and begins tossing things around, searching for the remote for the audio. She's sure she remembers there being one…

She makes a triumphant sound when she finds the slender remote, hidden under Eirtaé's pillow. Of course.

Rabé's face lites up as the music fills the room.

Despite the smallness of their quarters Sabé twirls herself around, dancing wildly and grabbing the older girl, making her join in. Their laughter reverberates through the room.

It's almost like being home for a moment. If Sabé closes her eyes, she can almost pretend it's Saché's bright laughs and the stale air is sweet with the summer flowers that bloom near their home in the valley-

"WHAT IS GOING ON?" Eirtaé bellows over the din.

Rabé freezes mid pirouette and Sabé's eyes fly open, stopping dead on the bed. They both turn toward the door with identical, horrified looks on their faces.

"Free-form ballet?" Sabé offers, an apologetic smile forming on her lips.

Eirtaé lets out an agitated huff, grinding her teeth. "What if someone other than me had come in? Seen the two of you behaving like, like…"

"Teenage girls?" Sabé offers.

"Exactly!" Eirtaé shouts, clearly not realizing her voice will draw more attention than all Sabe and Rabé's dancing.

"Eirtaé," Sabé starts soothingly, while crawling down from the bed, "no one can get in here without the code and the room is practically sound proof. We were safe."

Giving her a disgusted look Eirtaé continues her admonishments. "That is not the point! You are taking your duties far too lightly!"

"Eirtaé?" An amused sounding voice comes from behind the furious blonde. "Is something the matter?"

"Is something the matter? Is something the matter? Yes, something is the matt-These two are not taking their duties seriously! Do you not see the state of them? They're-They're…"

Eirtaé stops mid rant, blinks a few times, then turns.

All their attention, which had been solely focused on Eirtaé and deciding what punishment she was planning on doling out, shifts to the source of the voice. It turns out to be a girl in dirty clothes with a slightly sun kissed face.

"Padmé!" Rabé squeals and flings herself at the Queen, all thoughts of punishment gone from her mind.

Eirtaé sinks back onto a bench looking indescribably relieved.

"I take it you missed me?" Padmé laughs.

"What happened? Did you get the parts?" Rabé begins interrogating her.

"Yes," Padmé beams. "It was great! I wish you could have seen the race, Ani did so well! I wish we didn't have to leave him in this awful place. Now the Jedi has gone back and soon as he returns we are on our way to Coruscant!"

The girls give her identical, befuddled looks.

"Could you try to be more vague?" Sabé asks. "You must have spent too much time with that Jedi."

"Oh," Padmé nods, looking as if she'd expected all her knowledge to simply fill her handmaidens minds."I'd forgotten. The Jedi, Qui-Gon, he put our ship up as a wager in a pod race…"

Eirtaé looks too shocked for words. Not that that stops her.

"He what?!"

Sabé's nose wrinkles up. "A what?"

"…and Anakin, a slave boy, entered his pod racer under Qui-Gon's name…"

"Slave?" Rabé begins wringing her hands.

"…It's so fast and several of the pods crashed…"

"Oh stars."

"…But Anakin won! He won us our parts!..."

"I feel ill."

"…Now we are off to Coruscant once Qui-Gon gets back!" Padmé finishes, having ignored her friends' interruptions, and then sadly sighs. "I only wish we didn't have to leave poor Ani, he helped us so much."

The handmaidens gape at their queen.

"Padmé, do you think you could tells us what happened again? I'm-I think we might have missed the finer points," Sabé asks, hoping and praying she's momentarily blacked out and missed some very important details and made up even more.

Slowly, Padmé retells the story, in much better detail, and Sabé is horrified. She hadn't missed any major details. She's heard Padmé just fine the first time. Unfortunately.

Captain Panaka finally comes to their quarters to collect Padmé and to usher the handmaidens and decoy to the throne room so that when the older Jedi returns they will be ready to hear his report.

They once again find themselves setting, bored to the point of exhaustion, in the throne room.

Sabé begins to wonder if Padmé is ever going to tell Panaka off and come save them, her back hurts and her eyes are burning, when the ship gives a sudden, unpleasant lurch and then roughly takes off, tossing the girls out of their seats and into the floor and wall

"What's going on?" Rabé yelps, trying to find her balance and tumbling over again.

"How should I know?" Sabé huffs, attempting to push herself up with the heavy headdress weighing her down. "I'm only the Queen of Naboo, why should anyone feel the need to tell me what's happening?"

Eirtaé and Rabé finally struggle to their feet once the ships flying evens out and rush to Sabé, pulling her up and shoving her onto the throne.

"Fix the headdress," Eirtaé snaps, frantically trying to right it on Sabe's head.

"I hit my head, Eirtaé , my headdress is the least of my concerns," Sabé grumbles back.

Eirtaé ignores her.

After several minutes of tense waiting, Padmé , Captain Panaka, the two Jedi, a little boy, and a couple of guards came in, apparently they decide they can inform their passengers the reason for the unpleasant take off.

Master Jinn had fought something, Sabé isn't quite sure the significance of it but the Jedi appear grave, tense, and unwilling to elaborate. Sabé hasn't got much understanding of their body language, but she's certain there's more to the story than what she's being told.

They inform the decoy queen of the events of the day after that. Most of what they tell is what Padmé has already told them, but then they introduce her to the newest, youngest addition to the party, Anakin.

Well, Sabé thinks, Padmé won't feel so terrible about leaving him at least.

Still, she isn't sure leaving is much better than staying for him. He'd had to leave his mother behind, which was no doubt harder than the race he'd so kindly won for their benefit, and now he's off to an uncertain future. He's too young to really understand how much his life is going to change now, and Sabé hopes wherever he lands there are people to keep an eye on him.

After endless talking, mostly done by Captain Panaka and the Jedi, Sabé and her attendants make their way back to their quarters, all but collapsing in joyful relief.

It hadn't been an easy road, but they were nearing the end of it.

"I can't believe it!" Rabé grins. "We'll be on Coruscant in a less than a day!"

Padmé, sitting with a data pad in her hands, looking over things and formulating what exactly she's going to do once they finally reached the planet, looks up and gives her a weary smile. "We still have a long way to go. You know how slow the senate is, and I still have to convince them to intervene for us. Hopefully Chancellor Valorum and Senator Palpatine have some advice as to courses of action."

Her handmaidens sober up at this.

For the remainder of the trip, they wait for the announcement that the ship has reached the planet, their nerves raw in anticipation.

They carefully plan how they'll orchestrate the switch from Sabé to Padmé and what Sabé is to do while waiting.

"You cannot dress as a handmaiden. If anyone from the ship sees you we'd be deep in it if they notice we've both lost and gained a handmaiden," Eirtaé reasons aloud.

"Maybe I can go out in the city some?" Sabé asks, hoping for a chance at some, well, maybe not fresh, but at least outside air.

"No," Padmé shakes her head. "Coruscant is not the place for any of us to be wandering around alone."

"I could take a droid…," Sabé continues. "I grew up in a rougher city than this-"

"No," Padmé gives her a pointed look."I know this has been hard on you."

"I'm not complaining."

"I know you're not."

"I just need a walk."

Padmé sighs.

"You'll have to hide in one of the rooms at the apartment and not come out. For anything," Eirtaé finally informs her, ignoring the conversation that had been going on next to her.

"What if the apartment catches fire?" Sabé counters, keeping the smile from her face.

"Then I suppose you'll die," Eirtaé answers flatly. "We'll make sure you get a proper state funeral."

"Don't say things like that Eirtaé," Rabé gasps, giving her a doleful look.

Sabé grimaces and settles back, resigning herself to being the proverbial damsel trapped in the high tower.

Sabé waited, flopped back on the bed, waiting, slipping in and out of consciousness, images of her grandma, sister, and she making candies on their front porch, shopping at the market, selling their wine, and catching sun bugs in the fields by their house during the muggy summer nights filling her disjointed dreams.

She's only pulled from her stupor when Padmé storms in, furiously ranting about the Senator and his assessment of the situation. How he believed a vote of no confidence would be the most prudent action if the Chancellor was embroiled in the corruption that has taken hold of the senate and would be of no help.

Once she calms down, hours later, Rabé begins working on her hair, while Eirtaé and Sabé pull out various dresses and headpieces.

The right look is important, or so Eirtaé says. Padmé must look strong, unyielding.

"When will the senate reconvene?" Sabé asks, once Padmé has quieted, examining the outfit her handmaidens have created.

"Tomorrow morning," Padmé answers, stares straight ahead at the mirror, keeping her face blank.

Sabé, Rabé, and Eirtaé exchange worried glances. It's going to be a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada.

Padmé and two handmaidens leave early the next morning.

Sabé had been strongly encouraged the evening before to take a little peach colored pill by Padmé, Eirtaé, Rabé, and, to her bewilderment, Captain Panaka.

"It will help you relax," Captain Panaka tells her, Rabé nodding her emphatic agreement.

So she sleeps in, blissfully dreamless and oblivious to even Eirtaé's final warnings about stepping so much as a foot outside.

It isn't until afternoon, when something chimes at her bedside, that she even peeks out from under her mountains of blankets.

"Uh?" she grunts, squinting out before pulling the blankets back over her head, ignoring it.

Again it chimes. She puts the pillow over her head. Why aren't the guards shooing whoever it is off?

She bolts upright. No one should be at the door. This is a highly secure building. Why is someone at the door? No one should have gotten up this far.

She creeps out of bed to the door and placed her ear against it, then pulls her head back, shaking it in irritation at herself. She won't be able to hear whoever it is from this far away.

Frozen crouching in front of the bedroom door she holds her breath and hopes whoever it just leaves.

It's a foolish hope. Whoever this is has skirted security to get to the quarters, they won't be put off by a locked door.

Something whooshes as the front door opens, and Sabé's stomach drops as she hears footsteps enter, tapping on the tile.

The footsteps pause, go first to one door and opening it, then the kitchen, getting closer with each minute until they're just a few meters from the bedroom.

Sabé tumbles back, scrambling toward the walk-in closet, desperate to hide.

Whoever it is they can't see her, because she isn't technically here, Padmé is.

Sabé's heart races.

Is it an assassin sent by the Trade Federation? Someone from one of their backers?

She frantically searches for a blaster, a vibroblade, something, anything to defend herself, but there's nothing. So she dives into the closet and buries herself under a pile of discarded robes and dresses behind a row of hanging garments.

It's better than under the bed she supposes.

Sabé's heart drops into her stomach as she hears the door to the room open.

Terror seizing her, she grabs at whatever is nearest her and sends up a silent prayer.

It does no good.

The door to the room opens and the being stealthily moves around. She hears them walk first to the bed, open the standing dresser, then creep toward the closet.

The door open, the whoosh sending in a cool breeze of air, then the person walks in.

They stand, clearly looking around, and Sabé holds her breath, but they don't leave.

Sabé grips her weapons of choice, a particularly heavy high heeled shoe and a hanger, waits until she thinks they've got their back to her, then lets out a war cry and jumps out, catching the intruder off-guard.

Both of her impromptu weapons make contact with the intruder's head, apparently disorienting them, so she kicks them hard in the shins.

They aren't out of the fight yet as he grabs her hands, trying to halt the attack, so she smashes their foot with her right heel and slams them with her shoulder, knocking them off balance and causing them to fall back into another pile of clothes.

Before she runs out, locks them in and finds one of those damned lost blasters, she glances back and realizes just who she's so creatively pummeled.

Laying in a stunned heap, looking indignantly up at her is Obi-wan Kenobi.

Her jaw nearly falls off.

He looks ridiculous, but she's sure she doesn't appear much better with a shoe and a hanger still hoisted above her head.

She gives him a nervous grin coupled with an apologetic shrug. "Oh...sorry?"

"Who are you?" His voice is sharp, none of the softness he'd shown her on the ship finding its way through.

Sabé lets her weapons drop, stares at the floor, her fingers automatically linking together as she stands there, feeling like a guilty child.

"Ummm…well…that's a…complicated question," she stumbles over her answer.

"Un-complicate it then, because as I see it there is either a handmaiden or a queen in front of me that has spent a great deal of time deceiving those who are trying to keep her safe," he tells her, his words harsh and angry.

"Alright, not so complicated then," she mumbles in response.

Glancing up at him, she takes a few tentative steps forward then drops down cross-legged onto the floor, her eyes on the floor. She can't bear to look at the disappointment in his face.

"I'm sorry, I…it wasn't…it was, a part of a plan, to protect the queen. I was the decoy."

He continues to glare at her, jaw tense. "And the real queen is?"

Still staring at her twisting hands, Sabé mutters, "Obvious isn't it?"

A moment passes, and she almost looks up, then a long sigh came from his direction.

"Padmé...the handmaiden."

Nodding mutely, Sabé sits as an uncomfortable silence fills the air.

It's suffocating, and she glances up a few times to see if he's any less angry. The stony expression on his face quickly informs her he isn't, so she drops her eyes back down to her hands.

After several minutes her eyes rise slightly and find him finally eased.

Obi-wan is, at this point, no longer glaring angrily but is instead watching her with an odd, closed expression on his face.

"Please," Sabé pleads softly. "I'm sorry for deceiving you, but we had to. We had a duty just as you had yours, and in all fairness you weren't always open with us either. Don't be too angry. Please."

She looks back down at her hands and begins gnawing on her lip. Tears well in her eyes as she blinks them back furiously. She won't cry in front of him, not again.

Finally, a warm hand comes to rest on her shoulder.

"I'm not angry. Irritated, perhaps, that it took me this long to catch on to what was going on and that you didn't trust us enough to tell us in the first place, but not angry. Least of all with you."

Sabé looks up, eyes blurred with unshed tears, and finds herself staring into his blue-grey eyes, a kind smile on his lips. Relief floods her system and before she can stop herself she's flung herself at him, nearly knocking him over in her hug.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she yelps as she pulls herself off of him and straightens up.

There's a faint blush on his cheeks as he mumbles, "It's alright."

A moment passes as Sabé rubs her nose and sniffles, swats the tears from her eyes, which Obi-wan graciously pretends not to see.

Obi-wan finally sighs. "What is your name? Unless you feel it necessary for me to continue calling you 'your Highness' or 'Queen' m'lady."

Sabé grimaces. "No Jedi Kenobi, except when I'm dressed as the decoy of course." She pauses, imagines all the trouble she's going to be in before answering. "Sabé. My name is Sabé."

She takes a breath, forces a smile.

"Please, promise me you won't tell a soul about all this. It's very important. I can't even-Not even Master Jinn! The more people who know the less effective the plan is and the more danger the Queen is in. Please."

Obi-wan frowns, a crease forming between his eyes. "I can't lie to my master."

"It won't be lying! Just don't-just don't mention it. You can't lie about what you don't talk about right?" She pleads, anxiety building. "Plus you don't want to be responsible for a murder do you?"

"Murder?" He repeats, clearly confused.

"Yes, because if Eirtaé or Captain Panaka find out I'm so miserable at my job and let you find out one of our most guarded secrets they will kill me," she elaborates.

He chuckles, "If that's the case then I suppose I'll have to keep your secret, but I'll have to ask you for a favor as well."

Puzzled, she frowns. "Yes?"

"If you could not mention, ever, the fact that you very nearly beat me with a shoe and hanger it would be much appreciated."

Sabé snorts and rolls her eyes. "Nearly beat? If it hadn't been you I would have locked the closet and had a blaster before you could blink."

He battles down a smile, eyebrows rising. "Possibly."

Sabé laughs then looks around the crowded closet, feeling sheepish and hoping there are no embarrassing articles of clothing thrown about. "Do-would you like to get out of here? Bit claustrophobic."

The edges of his mouth twitch as he holds back a smile. "If it pleases the lady."

Sabé finds it no less awkward standing pointlessly in her room. She's about to ask if he'd like something to drink, it's only polite to offer refreshments, even to an uninvited guest, when she realizes she hasn't asked why he's lurking around their quarters.

It's no mystery how he got up, Jedi can manipulate minds after all, but why bother coming to the Naboo Queen's quarters?

"Why are you here?" She asks finally.

He sits on the unmade bed and looks around, picks up a hair-tie and toys with it a moment before speaking.

"I went to the senate expecting to hear the Queen's plea. While there I saw a girl who dressed as the queen and spoke as the queen but was distinctly not the queen as I know her. I was worried so I came to investigating."

He was worried about her? Why?

She tries to shake off the odd warmth of a blush on her cheeks. He was concerned due to his duties and her childish feelings are misplaced.

"Ah, well, thanks," she mumbles.

"So you have to stay here while the others go to the hearings?" He asks, again ignoring her embarrassment and saving what little dignity she has left.

Nodding, Sabé forces a smile.

"It wouldn't do to have Padmé the handmaiden show up and not be Padmé the handmaiden. So I have to stay out of sight, which basically means I have to stay locked in the apartment and not talk to anyone."

He smiles, clearly sympathetic to her plight.

#######

Over the next few hours Obi-wan stays and talks, keeping Sabé company as she awaits a comm call from Rabé letting her know the Queen and retinue are heading back.

Sabé inquires more about the Jedi and their beliefs, being taken from their families and training, if he'd ever considered leaving the Order, and eventually he eventually tells her some about his disagreement with his master over Anakin.

It's a point which Sabé only pretends to understand. After all, he's only a little boy, what harm can this counsel see in him? More than she can, clearly.

In turn, he's curious about the duties of the handmaidens and how Sabé had come to be the main decoy. She decides to leave out her Lorrdian heritage.

"I look like her," she explains simply. "That's the biggest part. The other girls can play the part as well, but my training is more extensive. We have an order, see? If I'm not able to be the decoy, Saché is next, then Rabé, then Eirtaé, and lastly Yané. Of course, Eirtaé would be higher up, she's got more political knowledge, but she looks the least like Padmé. Yané is last because she's so young."

He looks thoughtful.

"Rabé and Eirtaé are the other two handmaidens with you correct?"

Sabé nods.

"Why isn't it Rabé and the second in line, Saché? That way if, Force forbid, something happened to you, the next best decoy would be available."

Taking a slow drink of her water, Sabé tries to settle herself. Hearing her sister's name, so casually mentioned, makes miss her that much more.

"Because…Sach is the oldest and Yané is the youngest, only twelve. Sashé is very-well she's quick on her feet, resourceful, a good actress, and Yané, bless her, she just isn't yet. Plus," she almost laughs, "Eirtaé, politically inclined as she is, isn't much of a fighter. Saché's a bit of a lunatic. The Trade Federation will have their hands full with her."

He looks amused. "Really?"

Sabe chuckles, imagining her sister committing all sorts of crimes in the name of the Queen.

"She got us kicked out of school once. Locked a boy in a refresher with an overflowing toilet for insulting Nam. I was given the boot for being a silent accomplice."

Obi-wan let's out a bark of a laugh. "She sounds charming."

Sabé laugh. "She is...when she wants to be."

She leaves out that Saché rarely wants to be.

Shaking his head and chuckling, he asks, "You two were friends before becoming handmaidens?"

Face falling, Sabé shakes her head. "No, she's..Saché is my sister."

"Oh," he shifts uncomfortably. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's nice to talk about her. It makes being away hurt a little less."

A warm hand once again squeezes her shoulder. He gives her another gentle smile and then stands, glancing at the chrono ticking silently on the wall.

"I should be going. The others will be back soon I'm sure and I might be missed."

His brow creases slightly at the thought.

"How could you not be?" Sabé blurts out, immediately turning what she's sure is a violent shade of crimson. It was an awkward, stupid thing to say.

She needs to get a handle on herself.

Obi-wan mercifully ignores this and she sees him off before heading back to her room to await the arrival of her friends.

#######

Padmé and the other handmaidens had arrived back at the apartment hours later.

Rabé barely has time to ask Sabé if she had a good sleep when Padmé announces her intention to return to Naboo.

"There's no point in our staying," she tells them as they pack up. "Naboo is being held hostage and we need to be there. It's up to us to save ourselves. The Senate isn't going to be much help."

The next day arrives before Sabé can even process everything she's told.

Votes of no confidence and the new chancellor selection. It's all overwhelming, keeping her up most of the night, all the rest she'd gotten during the day evaporating as the night burns on.

Elation at being back where her family is and possibly seeing them is overwhelmed by terror at what they might find, or more accurately, not find, when she gets there.

#######

"I'm sure Saché is fine," Rabé whispers as they dress her, paint on her makeup and braid her hair up to hide in the headdress.

It's little comfort to Sabé as they jettison off, Coruscant slipping into the distance.

Obi-wan and Master Jinn accompany them, bringing little Anakin with them. He's cute and energetic, a bit more excited to see Padmé than Sabé would've expected.

"He told me he thought I was an angel the first time we met," Padmé tells them, laughing at the not too distant memory.

"An angel?" Rabé frowns.

"They're beings that inhabit Iago," Sabé explains. "They don't venture far from there. Nam saw one once."

"Your Nam claims to have seen most forms of life in the galaxy, real or fictitious," Eirtaé grumbles.

"Still, it was a sweet thing to say," Rabé adds.

He's a little too attached to Padmé, Sabé thinks, but keeps the thought to herself. They've got bigger problems than precocious crushes.

Padmé has plans, and once their deep into space she shares them with her handmaidens.

"You honestly want to involve the Gungans?"

Eirtaé looks both disgusted and exasperated at the very thought.

"They live on Naboo too, Eirtaé, they've got as much to loose as us. Whatever our differences, we have to work together. They'll see reason."

Sabé isn't so sure, even after Padmé shows her the speech she's prepared.

"You really think you can convince them?" She asks, eyeing the datapad cautiously.

"Padmé isn't going to have to," Eirtaé cuts in. "We aren't letting our Queen flounce into enemy territory. It's a recipe for disaster!"

Hours later, after a row that is only stopped when Rabé runs off and gets Captain Panaka, it's decided that Sabé will give Padmé's words to the Gungans.

"I'm not happy with this plan," the snaps, despite knowing not even the Queen can overrule the head of security on this matter. She shoots Sabé an apologetic look. "I'm sorry Sabé. I'll figure this out. I promise."

Somehow, Sabé can't see how she will. Short of blowing her cover and ruining the use of decoys forever that is.

That night the anxiety of meeting the Gungans, playing her role, and wondering if her family is alive or dead gets to be too much. Sabé sneaks out, roaming to the kitchen.

It isn't empty.

"M'lady?"

Obi-wan is sitting at a small table, a cup of tea nestled in his hands.

"Good evening, Obi-wan." She gives him an anxious smile. "I'm sorry to intrude. I just wanted to see if there were any blumfruit."

Her grandmother had always given her blumfruit when she was little and upset. It would be a comfort to find some. She's eaten the last of the bit she's had hidden during her stay on Coruscant.

"It's in the conservator," he tells her.

She quickly gets it out, stuffing a slice into her mouth before plopping into the seat across from him.

"Can I ask your advice?"

He sips his tea, smiles serenely. "Of course."

It's all the encouragement Sabé needs. The plan, the fight, and Sabé's part all come spilling out before she can think better of it. Eirtaé will kill her if she ever finds out.

"Well," she asks anxiously, once all the sordid details are out. "What do you think of the plan?"

A small crease forms between his eyes as he considers his words. "It's quite a gamble."

It's more than that. It's a disaster waiting to happen.

She buries her face in her hands. "This is going to be impossible."

"I didn't say that, but it's risky. For all involved. If the Gungans don't agree to help, you will all be in a great deal of danger. You more so than the others as they will think you are queen."

Sabé gnaws her lip.

"I'm afraid-I won't-I can't do justice to her words. I've gone over and over them in my head and I keep seeing myself making a horrible mess of everything." She takes a ragged breath then breaks into a full ramble. "Then we'll probably go storming in, with some half-baked plan, and get ourselves and everyone else killed and it will be all my fault."

"Sabé," he begins soothingly, "you're not going to go storming in. It's our job to protect the Queen, and I can assure you we won't let her take off, hairpiece first, into danger. You won't make any kind of mess of it; you've proven yourself quite capable and I have the utmost faith in you."

She grimaces and mutters into her cup, "Thanks."

He placed his strong, warm hands over hers, smiles.

"I won't say everything is going to be okay, because I don't know that it will, but I will tell you that just as I know you will do your duty, I will do mine, and with any luck that will be enough."

It has to be, Sabé thinks bleakly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada.

Failure.

Absolute, all-encompassing failure.

Sabé is a failure. There's no other explanation for it.

Not only had she been dressed in one of the most ridiculous outfits yet, as well as wearing a heavy, hot headdress, all while trudging through the musky and humid swamp, she also hadn't been able to pull off the Queen's plan.

She wasn't eloquent or forceful enough.

Padmé reassured her that it wasn't her fault, that she had seen the Gungan's weren't going to be swayed by grandeur, no matter what Eirtaé said, and she'd made the strategic move. Which by some miracle, actually worked.

"But now decoys will be useless," Panaka grumbled.

"I doubt that, Captain. People don't have long memories for this kind of thing," Padmé assures him.

Still, Sabé slumps against the trunk of a large tree while the Queen goes over her plans with everyone. It certainly still feels like a failure.

"You did well," Rabé tells her, smiles kindly and drops down beside her. "Really well."

"Then why do I feel so awful?" Sabé mumbles, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face.

Rabé pats her on her back and gives her a tight little hug.

They sit in the odd half hug for a moment when a canteen is suddenly in her face. Looking up she's surprised to find Obi-wan offering it to her.

"It's very hot out here, you need to stay hydrated. It's cool and clean, which is more than I can say for what you might get offered from some of the others."

Rabé takes it with a smile. "Ambassador, thank you."

He gives Sabé a tight smile which she tries to return. It comes out as more of a grimace.

He pats her shoulder before turning and hurrying back to Master Jinn.

"That was nice of him," Rabé says, taking a drink.

Sabé mutters her agreement, nods, and quickly gulps some of the water, choking herself in the process.

She hands the canteen back to Rabé and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand, grateful Eirtaé isn't around to scold her for her poor manners.

"Have we heard anything about Saché?" She asks.

It's not a better subject than how awfully she'd performed her decoy duties, but it's a distraction.

Panaka had gone out and tried to find out the status of the resistance, but when he'd returned he hadn't had so much as a whisper of good news about either of the other handmaidens.

"But that's not a bad thing," he'd added. "They might just be in hiding. There's a lot of fighting in Theed."

It was hardly reassuring.

So with each new group arriving, Sabé asks.

Rabé shakes her head.

"They're from the south. Maybe if some fighters come from the capital city they'll have some good news."

Sabé somehow doubts that, and with each disappointment her hopes sink lower.

#######

That night her dreams are filled with distant, half-forgotten memories, all repeating to torment her.

The night her father left, her mother's heart wrenching sobs, and finally her mother's funeral.

They're so vivid, she even feels the cold of the catacombs around her as she and Saché walk with their Nam to bury their mother.

"She's at peace now, sweetness," Nam tells Saché, her voice echoing off the walls.

Saché's chin wobbles, eyes shine, but she doesn't cry, only sniffles

"She should t be," Saché mumbles, her voice thick. "We aren't. She left us."

There's so much bitterness in her voice that Sabé flinches.

"Nammy? You won't leave will you?" little Sabé asks, clutching her grandmother's hand.

They're so small and so alone. She can't leave them too.

The older woman smiles sadly down at her. "Everyone leaves someday."

"Not like this," the Saché snaps. "She chose to leave us."

Nam sighs. "Your mother has chosen her way differently. That hurts. It's a difficult lesson to learn, that some people hurt so badly that moving to the next life is the only relief they can find. You'll understand. Someday."

Saché looks dubious.

"She shouldn't have hurt. She had us."

Sabé doesn't voice her agreement, but looks up at her grandmother and frowns.

"She loves you, both of you, very much Sachette. Love though, sometimes it isn't enough."

"Loved," Saché corrects her. "She's dead. She doesn't love us now."

Nammy laughs.

"Oh my little sweetness, love doesn't die. There's no end to it. Death doesn't stop love." She stops, stoops down in front of them. "When we die, we go to where the vanished stars go. The next place where we can see those we love again. Because of that, love doesn't die with us. It lives and grows. Never forget that."

The scene shifts, swirls and reforms to the room Sabé and Saché shared when they'd lived in Qatamer, on Lorrd.

"Saché, are you awake?" Sabé hears her small self ask.

There's a lightning storm raging on outside. The windows shudder and the old building groans, the lightning flashes angrily, thunder rumbling ominously after.

"No," Saché answers, sitting up and waves for her sister to join her.

Sabé crawls out of her bed and scurries to Saché's, clambering in beside her as another clap of thunder racks their room.

"Don't worry, Sabs," Saché whispers, helping Sabé snuggle deep in the blankets, safe from the noise and flashes. "I'm here."

"What about when you're not?" Sabé asks, voice muffled under the blankets.

Saché grins. "I'll never not be here. I won't leave you."

Sabé peeks out from under the blankets.

"I won't leave you either."

Flinging her arms around her, Saché presses a kiss to Sabé's hair.

"I love you, sissy."

"Love you too, sissy," Sabé whispers back.

They were a pair, a package deal.

Only now they aren't, a weary voice reminds her, coiling around the memory, sniffing it out.

Saché is missing and probably dead and-

"Sabé! Wake up!"

Someone has her by the shoulders, roughly shaking her.

"Go-way," she grumbles into her arm, shielding her eyes front the sunlight.

"Sabé!"

Suddenly she's awake, bolt upright, ready for a fight.

"Are they here? Where's my blaster? Where's my headdress?"

Rabé gives her a pained smile. "Sabé? It's time to get ready."

Bearings back, she and the other two handmaidens get to work, fix her makeup, hair, and clothes. Despite her failure, she's going to continue on as the queen for the battle.

Her stomach rolls as Rabé braids her hair, twists it and tucks it into the headdress and Eirtaé goes over more strategy. Sabé doesn't hear much, her mind is stuck replaying she and Saché's promises to each other when they'd been so very small.

Captain Panaka and Padmé appear, stroll up from some ragged tent set up at the edge of the encampment, both grinning.

"What are you two looking so cheerful about?" Rabé asks, as she switches sides and begins working a particularly stubborn knot out of Sabé's hair.

"I just received a transmission from the western boroughs," his smile broadens, "and who should I be told about but our littlest handmaiden and the scourge of the Trade Federation."

Sabé shoots up, knocking Rabé and Eirtaé over. "Saché and Yané!"

Padmé nods, smile brightening more.

"They're fine! They've been little ringleaders in the resistance from what Captain Panaka was told. They're going to be meeting up with us and sneaking into the palace."

Even Eirtaé looks relieved at the news that Saché and Yané are not only fine, but also well enough to continue fighting.

Sabé doesn't even bother trying to get the grin from her face as she makes her way through the camp to the Jedi to return the canteen they'd given her.

"You seem quite happy young handmaiden," Master Jinn states, taking the canteen from her.

She nods, feeling foolish but too happy to care. "I am."

Obi-wan stands, eyebrows rising. "What's happened? I doubt you're looking forward to the battle."

Sabé shakes her head, the stupid smile growing.

"My sister, Saché, she's alive! She's going to meet up with us soon."

Obi-wan chuckles. "That's really wonderful."

"Quite," Master Jinn agrees. His mouth twitches. "Sabé."

Her face warms and her eyes drop as she toys with the hem of her outfit.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

He simply laughs.

"It was your duty, I only wish I had been as perceptive as my padawan and caught on to the ruse earlier. I'm not used to being one of the last to know."

She nods, looks around and pretends to be very fascinated by the trees. "I should be getting back to the Queen."

Before they can ask her anything else, Sabé rushes off, hoping she hasn't sweated off all her makeup.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada

"SABÉ!"

A dirty face and messy hair flies at Sabé, knocking her down.

"Saché I can't breathe!" Sabé laughs, hugging her sister back.

Saché pushes Sabé out at arm's length, nose wrinkled up as she inspects for injuries.

Sabé take the moment to take in her big sister's appearance. It's not comforting.

Her hair is greasy, not as tightly pulled back as normal, there's a livid bruise on her left cheek, a few yellowing ones on her hands and forearms, and her clothes are wrinkled and torn, blood smeared in places.

Saché finally steps back and crosses her arms. "What took you so long?"

"Don't ask," Eirtaé mutters with a roll of her eyes. "It's been dreadful. You can't even imagine."

"What happened? You have to use the dessert fork on the appetizer?" Saché rolls her eyes.

Eirtaé narrows her eyes. "We were stranded on a desert planet. For days."

Saché snorts.

"Yeah. That sure is dreadful." She sets Eirtaé in a stony look. "Did you get tossed in a work camp? Have to steal food? Did you have to do manual labor, Tay? Because unless your troubles extend past 'stranded for a few days' I'm pretty sure Yané and I have you beat for misery."

Rabé, sensing a fight, intervenes.

"Where is Yané?"

Jerking her thumb over her shoulder, Saché wags her eyebrows.

"Making me proud. Enthralling all those farm boys with tales of our daring."

Eirtaé makes an exasperated noise and stomps off to gather up the youngest handmaiden while Rabé and Sabé laugh.

"I've taught her well."

"She's twelve," Sabé reminds her, knowing Saché won't care.

"You're never too young to play the game, sissy."

#######

For the next few minutes Saché entertains them with wild tales, most of which are true. Even Padmé takes a moment to catch up with her lost handmaidens.

"Saché, I can honestly say our trip would've been more colorful with you there," She laughs, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Next time we get invaded you should remember that."

Captain Panaka's arrival kills any levity they manage to find and Padmé quickly switches back into an authoritative manner.

"Once we get inside I'll go with Captain Panaka to capture the Viceroy. You," Padme says, pointing to each of the girls, "will be causing a distraction."

"Fantastic," Saché interrupts. "Distracting is what I do best."

Before Eirtaé can snap at her to shut up, Rabé holds up her hand.

"Will some of the guards be coming with us?" She inquires.

"They'll be assisting us, yes," Padme nods distractedly, her mind already working through what comes next.

Saché raised her hand. "Will it be ladies choice as to the particular guards?"

Eirtaé glares. "This isn't the time, Saché."

"I'd just like to know that if I'm charging madly to my death that it will be surrounded by the handsomest security guards Naboo has to offer."

Panaka sighs. "I will pick the guards. The two of you can argue later."

He and Padmé head back to the Gungans to make final arrangements, leaving the girls to themselves as they walk toward the transport.

"You have to tell us everything later about being stranded. It was madness here, right Saché?" Yane excitedly chatters, oblivious to the fact that Saché has already shared several of their daring tales.

Sache's attention, however, focused elsewhere.

She turns back to the others, a disgusted look on her face.

"You mean to tell me I just spent a week sweaty, dirty, and in mortal fear," she ticks off each offence on her dirty hands, "and you got to hang out with that?"

She points over Sabé's shoulder, to Obi-wan, standing in the distance, conferring with Master Jinn

Eirtae finally laughs.

#######

"The Queen is up ahead with the Viceroy," Sabé manages through gasps, the headdress slipping. It'll be the death of her.

"We need to cause a distraction," Eirtaé reminds them.

"Alright then, what's the plan then?" One of the young guards asks.

"Plan?" Saché rolls her eyes. "Those never work."

Sabé takes a breath. Distraction. Right.

"Let's just...go in, blasters firing and shoot everything that moves," she finally says.

Saché looks delighted. "Excellent. I approve. Might I add we should use that plan more often."

"And if, somehow, that doesn't work, do we have a back-up plan?" An obviously irritated Eirtaé asks.

"No."

"Fantastic."

"Isn't it?" Sache chirps.

It's a blur after that.

Running, trying not to trip, yelling.

Padmé wanted a distraction, and she gets it.

#######

The fighting ends quickly.

"Bit anticlimactic," Saché comments.

As slowly as the build up to the invasion goes, it ends in a heartbeat.

It should be a happy moment, but it's hard to be too happy with all that's been lost.

One of Yané's brothers had become violently ill in one of the camps and is in hospital recovering. Rabé's family still hasn't been able to locate several cousins and an aunt. Eirtaé's family home had been destroyed.

"Centuries of family history lost," she tells them. "My parents and sisters are okay though."

They hadn't heard from their Nam, but the Trade Federation hadn't even bothered to take over most of the valleys, so their grandmother is in all likelihood, perfectly safe.

"Old bat probably didn't even know we'd been invaded," Saché had laughs as they make their way back from sneaking food from the kitchens. "You know she hates watching the holonews and she only ever reads the obituaries. Course now this is over she might get curious why the obit list is so extensive."

Sabé shoots her a dirty look. "You're terrible."

Saché shrugs. "I know."

They walk on along the dark edges of the palace, exchanging tales of what happened in the others absence and both feeling the other's story is better.

"I can't believe you drove a speeder into all those droid troops! And lived!"

"I can't believe you got to lounge about in Coruscant. With that Jedi. Lucky. Pity he is a Jedi though. Bunch of weirdos."

Sabé rolls her eyes. "I blew the Queen's cover, I would hardly call that lucky."

"It was alright in the end, though, and as long as nobody else knows that he knew it'll be fine," Saché reminds her, popping part of some blumfruit in her mouth. .

They've just come up a flight of stairs, giggling about something Eirtaé had said earlier, when Sabé notices someone moving down into the garden just ahead of them.

"Who's that?" She wonders aloud.

Saché shrugs then pulls her along by the elbow. "Don't know. Let's find out."

The two quickly tip-toe up to the wide archway and peer around the edge, down to the walkway below.

There, down below by a mounding flower of lavender, sits Obi-wan.

He was staring up at the sky, not unlike the sisters had so often done, searching for something just beyond his sight.

It doesn't look like meditation, not to Sabé, but she isn't sure. She's ever meditated.

Sabé feels her heart drop.

When she had heard that Master Jinn had been killed by, well, whatever that was, but that Obi-wan had survived, her heart had constricted around her throat. She wanted to give him some small measure of comfort, just as he'd given her over the past few days.

She had tried to find him earlier in the day, but he'd taken his master's body and then disappeared. She assumed to do something profoundly Jedi-like. Maybe they had their own customs.

After that she'd been so caught up with helping organize and reestablishing order in the palace that she hadn't had another chance to seek him out and had decided it would have to wait until the next day.

She pulls away from Saché, takes a step away, only to be stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"Where are you going?"

Sabé glances toward where Obi-wan is still sitting.

"He needs someone."

"He's been avoiding everyone all day. He obviously wants to be alone."

"He just lost Master Jinn. He needs to know someone cares."

Saché looks dubious.

"I don't think that's how Jedi work, Sabs." She waves a hand toward the gardens. "Read him. He wants to be alone."

Ignoring her, Sabé pulls away.

"I'll see you later."

With that she hurries down the steps, leaving Saché muttering to herself.

A warm breeze sends the scent of the Velanie flowers and the Romanaria toward her, petals blowing around her feet.

"Obi-wan?"

He turns his head at the sound of her voice. His eyebrows furrow, the crease between his eyes deepening before easing. "Hello Sabé."

Hesitantly, she steps closer. "If you want me to leave I will."

Turning to face her, a ghost of a smile flashes across his face. "No, you're fine."

Gracefully, she sits on the grass, edging toward him until only a breath separates them, shoulder to shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry about Master Jinn," she murmurs, eyes on her feet. "He seemed like a good man."

"Thank you," he says without looking at her.

Pulling her knees to her chest, Sabé sighs and turns her head to look at him.

His jaw is tight and his eyes are stormy.

He doesn't want to be alone, but he doesn't think there's a choice.

Before she can stop herself, one of her small hands reaches out and gently squeezes his shoulder.

His voice cuts through the silence, cracks. "I don't know what's going to happen, Sabé. I don't know if I'm ready for this."

Sabé chews her lip…tries to find the right words.

"Things will carry on. Life is cruel that way. It doesn't stop when we lose the ones we love, no matter how much we want it to." She takes a breath. "Mourn him. Cry. Know he loves you in whatever awaits us beyond this life. Never forget him."

He frowns, stares down at his hands.

"Qui-Gon is dead. He is one with the force now. I must accept that and not hold onto something that's gone."

Sabé links her arm through his, then tentatively rests her head on his shoulder.

He tenses, but after a moment eases.

"Just for tonight, let yourself be human. Because, no matter what you say, you are human."

Jedi or not, he needs to feel. Even just for a moment.

They sit there, not speaking, the flowers filling the air and the sound of distant celebrations echoing over the walls, under the twinkling expanse of stars, being human, even if for just one night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada.

Sabé finds Saché sitting up waiting for her.

She's lounging on the chaise, still eating blumfruit and staring up at the sky. One of her eyebrows arches when she spots Sabé.

"How'd it go?

Sabé shrugs, feeling her face warm. "Fine."

Saché makes an exasperated noise, scooting over, making room for Sabé on the lounger.

"Don't get attached, sissy. Jedi aren't normal. They get stolen and have all the humanity beat out of them."

"Says who?"

"Everyone," Saché tells her as she settles in beside her. "No matter how nice he seems, how nice any of them seem, they don't function like us. They don't know how."

Sabé huffs.

"They protect the galaxy. They care about it."

"And historically speaking, their in-fighting has caused a lot of its troubles," Saché reminds her. "They-I just think they're not as benevolent as they try to seem."

Slumping down, she offers the bowl of blumfruit to Sabé before resting her head on her shoulder.

"Just be careful."

Nodding, Sabé nibbles on a bit of fruit and stares up at the stars, dimming as the morning creeps closer, before closing her eyes. There's a long day ahead.

########

Late that next morning the Jedi council arrive.

They appear in no particular hurry as the slowly make their way from their ship, murmuring to each other as they walk.

Saché huffs, covertly wipes sweat from her face.

"That blasted force of theirs must keep them from sweating. Otherwise they'd walk a little faster."

"Saché," Eirtaé snaps. "Be quiet."

"I'm broiling, Tay," Saché snarls back. She narrows her eyes. "Don't pick such heavy robes and maybe I won't sweat like Nautolan at a seafood broil next time."

"Nautolans don't sweat," Yané points out.

Saché grinds her teeth. "It's just an old saying, Yané."

After what feels like an eternity the Jedi, a stern looking man and a squash, green...being, whose species Sabé can't quite place, finally reach them.

They exchange stilted pleasantries with Captain Panaka and the Queen before being usher off with Obi-wan for an official tour of the capital.

Eirtaé is given the honor of showing the Jedi council members around, taking the Queen, Captain Panaka, and Yané with them to better assess the damage done to the city.

"Sounds fun," Saché snickers as a miserable Yané slowly follows the group.

That, of course, leaves the celebratory organization to Rabé, Saché and Sabé.

Which meant Rabé and Sabé planned while Saché shirked her duties by playing with Anakin.

To be fair, no one else knew quite what to do with him. There's are repairs to be made, speeches, and festivities, all things a child has no part to play in. He's adrift and alone despite the part he played in saving Naboo.

Obi-wan, Sabé supposes, should be taking care of him, but he's too deep in grief to be much of a guardian at the moment. Judging by his body language, he also has little knowledge of what to do with a child.

So the burden falls on Saché, though she clearly sees it as anything but.

"This kid is great," she tells Sabé after disappearing for hours. "He helped me reprogram Eirtaé's data pad. She's never gonna find those stupid etiquette protocols she's been talking about."

Sabé rolls her eyes. "Your pettiness knows no bounds, does it?"

Saché snorts. "Petty is what I did to her toothbrush."

"What did you do to her toothbrush?" Rabé asks, looking more than a little concerned.

"Don't worry about it, Rabs. Plausible deniability."

It's the opposite of comfort, and for the rest of the afternoon both Rabé and Sabé take turns guessing what Eirtaé's toothbrush had been put through. She'd given no clues through her kinetics, which was impressive as it was troubling.

After hours of preparation, directing flower arrangement placement, helping with clean up, and deciding on a menu, both girls are exhausted and sweaty.

"I need to freshen up," Rabé sighs.

With a nod of agreement, Sabé walks with her toward their living quarters.

Rabé goes to the fresher in the Queen's chamber, leaving Sabé to the one in the handmaiden room.

When she emerges from the fresher, she finds Saché sitting on the bed, Anakin on the floor just in front of her, watching the holoprojector. Luke Absalom's handsome visage and the cast of Corellian General flickering in front of them.

"I don't get it?" Anakin's nose scrunches up. "What's even going on? Wasn't he just with that other girl? And isn't that the same place those other people were just at? Why is he making that face?"

"Sweetness, I don't watch it for the plot," Saché explains, adding, "or the acting, for that matter."

He turns curiously to her. "Then why do you watch it?"

"Because she's a ridiculous flirt and she's picking up pointers," Sabé answers while flinging water at Saché.

Laughing, Saché dodges the droplets, losing her balance and falling off the bed. "Oomph! Anakin! Protect me!"

"Oh no, don't hide behind the boy!" Sabé yells as she bounds over the beds and tackles her sister.

Anakin dissolves into a fit of giggles at the sight.

Sache laughs too hard to put up much of a fight, so Sabé gets her in a headlock and loudly berates her.

"You are the most infuriating person I've ever met! If Eirtaé finds out you've been goofing off all day she'll kill you and then she'll lecture Rabé and I for not making you help."

"Don't be so dramatic," Saché half-gasps, half-laughs. "She'll probably just have me locked away for the rest of my natural born life!"

Sabé tightens the headlock and pushes her sister's face into the carpet.

"Help!" Saché laughs.

They tumble into the hall, knocking over a plant.

"Do I need to intervene?" A gentle voice asks, a hint of laughter ebbing its way in.

Obi-Wan. Of course. He can't catch her doing something dignified now can he?

He's standing a few feet away, the little, green Jedi leaning on a cane next to him, both looking amused with the scene in front of them.

Sabé slowly releases Saché from the chokehold. As they sit up, a Saché shoots her a guilty look over her shoulder.

They both straighten up and turn to the Jedi, carefully keeping their eyes focused at the ground in front of the two.

"No, sir," Saché finally answers, in complete seriousness. "Sabé and I were just practicing."

"Practicing you were, hmm?" the green being croaks, nods sagely.

Sabé nods in agreement, though she can't see what they cmight have possibly been practicing for.

"Yes, you see we can't be handmaidens forever. I believe, and Sabé agrees, that once our tenure ends we have a promising future in woolly veermok wrestling," she elaborates, not so much as cracking a smile.

Sabé almost groans. What is wrong with her sister?

"What's that?" Anakin manages to ask through his giggles.

"Ah. You must be Saché ," Obi-wan finally says, giving her an appraising once over.

Sabé glances up and sees him grinning at them.

Saché cuts a look at Sabé before responding.

"Must I be?" she asks, one eyebrow arching up.

"Your sister described you quite well," he adds, nodding.

Unimpressed, Saché forces a smile. "I'm sure she does. How may we help you, Master Jedi."

The little Jedi chuckles. "Come for young Skywalker, we have."

For a moment Saché only stares at him, clearly confused.

Sabé grimaces when she remembers that no one has fully explained the boy's situation to her sister.

As far as Saché knows, Anakin is nothing more than a rescued slave soon to be adopted by a nice Naboovian family. She may even assume Padmé's family is the lucky home. There's simply been too much excitement going on and it had slipped Sabé's mind. In fact, Sabé isn't even sure of his fate. The council hadn't wanted him, last she'd heard.

"What do you want with Ani?" Saché asks finally, eyes narrowed in suspicion, smile gone. "He's fine with me."

Obi-Wan frowns, obviously taken aback by her sudden sharpness. He glances at Sabé, who can only respond with an apologetic shrug before turning to her sister.

"Anakin is probably going to be taken to be trained as a Jedi. I hadn't thought to tell you," Sabé explains, eyeing the Jedi curiously.

Anakin mumbles something about not being sure before finding something fascinating about his shoes.

"Of his future, still uncertain, we are," the green Jedi tells them.

Still glaring, Saché doesn't soften her voice. "What do you want with him then?"

She crosses her arms over her chest, physically places herself between Anakin and the Jedi.

Gone was the jovial Saché, in her place is the over-protective sister that had once been given a week's worth of detention for locking a boy in cabinet for making Sabé cry. She won't be swayed even by Jedi.

She has no chance against them, but Sabé is ready to fight.

The little Jedi's eyes widen, apparently and completely justifiably feeling Saché is overstepping her bounds. "To talk with him, hmm."

A minute passes in silence, Saché coolly appraising the little green Jedi, before she finally relents. She turns from the Jedi and gives Anakin a brilliant smile.

"Hurry back, sweetness, so we can make sure we don't need to alter those new clothes we got earlier."

He watches her apprehensively for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay."

He cast one last furtive glacé at her, and Saché gives him a little wink before he vanishes around the corner, following the green Jedi.

Once they've gone, her features morph back into a cold glare that she fixes on Obi-Wan.

He looks to Sabé uncomfortably. Apparently the Jedi don't prepare their initiates to be faced with the very irritated teenage girls. He's wrong footed against her, and he very obviously knows it.

"It's nice to meet you," he finally says as he gives her a small smile.

"Charmed, I'm sure," she replies, her expression unflinchingly flat.

She dislikes him, more now than when she'd thought he was simply a childish crush to hurt Sabé, and Obi-wan hardly needs to know Lorrdian kinetic languages to know it. Even if he has no idea why.

"I'm sorry if there's been any misunderstanding about Anakin," he tells her, his smile remaining calm despite his troubled stance.

"Hmm," she grunts. "It's been busy. Things get lost in the jumble."

With one last icy smile that would turn lesser men into soulless shells, Saché's eyes light. She's going to do something awful. Sabé's stomach rolls and she decides now is the time to intervene, before Sache decides to practice woolly veermok slaying on Obi-wan.

"Saché, you should go get ready," she half whispers. "I'll show you out Obi-wan."

She links her arm through his and steers him down the hall, away from the danger.

"I don't think she likes me very much," he tells once they're far enough away from Sache .

Sabé grimaces.

"Anakin is a little kid, and Saché adores children, she's nothing if not a devoted big sister."

She leaves out her sister would make most momma tusk cats look well-mannered and calm when she thinks someone she's taken under her wing is in danger.

Obi-wan chuckles. "I'll keep that in mind."

Her mind stops functioning after that. All she can think about is the warmth of his body next to hers and the scent of whatever soap he'd used.

She's being ridiculous and she knows it, but she can't keep herself from it. There's so few opportunities to be just a teenage girl in her life.

He's treated her with more kindness and civility than most boys she's made the acquaintance of since they'd left Lorrd all those years ago.

When they reach the main hall, Sabé quickly unlinks her arm from his, stepping away as her insides squirm.

"I should go back. Need to get ready," she tells him, waving distractedly before rushing off.

"Sabé?" He calls out to her before she gets too far off.

Stopping, Sabé takes a breath, forces a smile, then turns. "Yes?"

He smiles. "Thank you, and please apologize to your sister for me. We hardly meant to upset her."

Nodding, Sabé hurries off, hoping he doesn't notice the glow on her cheeks.

#######

Saché is glaring at the holoprojector, Corellian General long since over, when Sabé returns.

Sabé twists her fingers together painfully as she approaches her.

"I don't like it," Saché says suddenly, her eyes still on the projector.

Sabé makes a face. "I know, how could they make Rosco the father of Nasha's baby?"

A snort of laughter burst out of Saché as she looks at her worried sister.

She rolls her eyes and sighs. "I know. Completely ridiculous."

Sabé lets a cautious smile twitch up and is greeted with a small one in return.

"I'm sorry," Saché grumbles. "I just don't think them taking Anakin is a good idea, and to have it sprung on me like that…I don't want him hurt."

Sabé almost tells her she barely knows Anakin, she shouldn't be so decided on his future, but keeps that to herself. Saché sees it as a personal mission to protect all kids, whether they really need it or not.

She finally settles on trying logic. A pointless choice, she knows, but she has to try.

Settling on the bed, she sighs. "It's not your choice anyways, Sach. His mother let him go so he could have a better life as a Jedi. We have to respect that."

"Mother's don't always make the best choices, we know that. They're only human, they make mistakes," she reminds Sabé, her eyes no longer steely as she sadly goes to the window. "Besides, why couldn't he have a better life here? Anakin, he's a good kid. I don't know much about the Jedi, no one knows much about them, but I just don't see how he's going to adjust. Those people are raised away from the people that love them unconditionally, and he hasn't been. To take that sweet boy and put him with those cold, sterile beings seems…"

She raises her hands in a helpless gesture.

"They're not all cold and," Sabe makes a face, "sterile."

Saché snorts. "You only say it like that because of that adorable Jedi you've grown so attached to. Even if he's a loss."

Sabé throws a pillow at her.

Saché catches it and laughs. "The truth hurts, sissy."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada.

"I suppose," Saché chirps as she balances herself on a low balustrade in the garden the morning after Master Jinn's funeral, "it's for the best. The way he's hitting on Padmé now, once his hormones hit..."

She snaps her fingers for emphasis.

Sabé rolls her eyes. "Just because you lost your mind when you hit puberty doesn't mean we all do."

Grinning, Saché laughs. "Sissy, I lost my mind well before that."

She does a cartwheel along the railing.

Saché is taking the news of Anakin's final fate much better than Sabé expected.

He'd snuck up to Padmé's room a few hours after the funeral and told her. She's passed the information onto the handmaidens that morning.

The Jedi were honoring the deal Master Jinn has made. Anakin was to be a Jedi.

Saché's only discernible response had been a darkened look, sharpening her glare, conveying her displeasure.

After breakfast she'd convinced San to waste the last glorious hours before the celebration dallying in their favorite spot in the garden.

Saché, in her normal manner, had somehow wormed her way out of having to dress as handmaiden and be on stage, by volunteering to help back at the palace organizing the feast. She wouldn't, but that hardly mattered to the organizer, Eirtaé.

"I'd rather her be causing trouble out of sight than mucking up the festivities," she'd explained, when Yané tried to get out of her duties as well.

"If you fall in I can't jump in to save you," Sabé reminds Saché as she does another flip.

She's in robes specially made for the celebration. She'd be skinned alive if she ruined them.

Besides, she can't swim.

"If I fall in you can leave me," Saché calls back, doing a little twist as she jumps from the rail.

"Can you not swim?" A young boy's voice breaks their reverie.

They turn and find Anakin, now sporting new clothes so reminiscent of Obi-wan's and Master Jinn's Sabé has to look twice to make sure it's him.

Saché's nose scrunches up in dislike. "What did you do to your hair?"

He runs his hand over his much shorter hair ruefully. "They cut it."

Nodding soberly, Saché sighs. "My condolences."

"Is Padmé around?"

His eyes instantly scan over the scene, as if expecting her to materialize out of thin air at the question.

"Putting on the iron maiden no doubt," Saché mutters.

Sabé rolls her eyes. "She's getting ready for the parade. You'll see her there."

He brightens at this, and then asks, "Am I going to stand with you all?"

"You'll be in front of us. We won't be able to talk too much," Sabé explains.

"Eirtaé said Saché won't be there because she lacks the 'self-possession' to be allowed on 'such a grand stage." His face scrunches up, obviously confused. "I don't know what that means though."

"It means Eirtaé was born with a silver spoon stuck up her…"

Before Saché can say just where Eirtaé's silver spoon is stuck someone coughs from just over Sabé's shoulder.

Obi-wan, accompanied by the little green Jedi and another dark-skinned, bald one, is standing at the gap between the hedgerows, staring at the little group with interest.

Both girls quickly pull their hoods up over their heads, hide their faces as quickly as they can and stand up straighter before making little bows in their direction.

"Master Jedi," they chime, lowering their heads.

From under her cowl Sabé sees Anakin making a face at Saché, then he mumbles, "You two aren't as much fun when other people are around."

"Young Skywalker, looking for you we were," the green one says, leaning on his cane.

"We were going to meditate," the bald one adds. "We were hoping you'd join us."

Sabé steels a glance at the little boy.

He looks anything but excited at the thought of leaving the bright outdoors and the cheeky, cheerful girls for the most likely darkened room with the gloomy men.

Still, he nods nonetheless and takes a few steps before turning back to the handmaidens.

"I will get to talk to you again before I leave, won't I? After the parade?"

A small smile flashed across Saché's face, just barely visible under her cowl. "Yes, sweetness. We can talk at the feast, and a little dance I think."

"And we'll be seeing you off when you leave Naboo," Sabé adds.

Still looking gloomy, he follows the men.

Saché looks darkly at her sister.

"I have a bad feeling about that," she grumbles to herself.

"What?"

"That whole situation. There's something, I don't know…catastrophic building up. I can't put my finger on it."

She reaches her hand out, finger pointed up and blotting out the sun.

"Must you always find the dark cloud to every silver lining?"

Saché sighs.

"It's a gift."

#######

Food is flown in from off-planet and the people of Theed join in on the celebratory feast, eating and dancing in the street right up to the palace gates.

Inside, bunting and brightly colored globes, burning warmly, adorn the ballroom.

Sabé and Saché are seated at a corner table, flanking their grandmother who'd been found alive and well in their valley home.

"She looks like she's having fun," the Nam chuckles as she watches Rabé dancing with an ungainly pilot.

"If any of them heads my way I'm feigning illness. My feet are killing me from all the times that dork Savoon stepped on them," Saché mutters irritably. A wicked look passed over her face. "I'll send them after Eirtaé!"

Sabé ignores her and gazes across the dancers and sees Padmé dancing with the much shorter Anakin, doing surprisingly well for someone she suspects had never even seen a ballroom let alone ballroom dancing before.

Saché and Nammy both burst into laughter at the sight.

"Cute kid," Nammy says as she takes a sip of wine. "Bit out of his league, but, so it is."

"He's already working on flirting. You should see it. Priceless," Saché l tells her, downing her own glass of wine.

Sabé laughs. "It is pretty funny. No subtlety at all, but he's just a little kid."

"I hate to tell you this," Nammy chuckles, "but they don't get any better at it as they get older. Hopefully it will remain endearing after he has to start shaving."

Rolling her eyes, Sabé sees Obi-wan in deep conversation with one of the council members. He notices her and gives a little nod of acknowledgment and she feels her cheeks warm as she nods back.

She suddenly wishes she had been allowed to wear one of the handmaiden robes. The hood would be nice right now.

"Have you had too much wine, Sabella?" Nammy asks, pressing the back of her hand to Sabé's warm cheek. "You look feverish."

"That's not the wine," Saché tells her, smirking.

Nammy huffs. "Oh, spit it out Sachette."

Sabé's face burns. "It's nothing. Saché's being a brat."

Nammy grins, the wrinkles on her face growing deeper and more severe with the action. "Oh, it's a boy, is it? Where is he Sach?"

Before Saché can say anything, or Sabé can shut her up, they're interrupted.

"Ladies."

The three of them turn and find Obi-wan smiling genially at them.

"Jedi, hmmm?" Nammy gives him a once over. "Young man if all the Jedi are as cute as you I hope we get invaded more often."

Rolling her eyes, Saché huffs. "Nammy!"

Nam simply shrugs. "Truth hurts, Sachette. Besides, I'm old. I'll say as I see it."

"Well there's incentive to get old and wrinkled," Saché grumbles.

"This is my Nammy, Rhoea Lindzee. Nam, this is Jedi Kenobi," Sabé introduces them, trying to take control of the situation before Nammy and Saché take it into embarrassing territory.

"Lovely to meet you," he says, taking Nan's hand.

"Likewise," Nam tells him.

"I suppose I should apologize for my behavior the other day," Saché says, sipping Sabé's wine since hers is empty. "But I wouldn't mean a word of it."

Obi-Wan chuckles. "Well, at least you're honest."

"That I am," she agrees.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Sabé asks as she takes in his appearance.

He's wearing nicer clothes than she's seen a Jedi in, though still in a very simple style, and he's cut that goofy little braid off. Thank goodness, she thinks.

He takes a deep breath. "This isn't really my area of expertise."

"You'd rather be in a desperate battle for your life?" she asks, trying not to look too amused.

"Much rather," he mutters. "Or negotiating. Really, anything but a ball."

Nammy looks scandalized. "You don't like dancing?"

"I doubt they have a rumba room at the temple, Nam," Saché mumbles.

"No, not quite," he agrees.

"So, do you not like to dance or are you just not very good at it?" Nammy continues her line of questioning, still baffled as to how anyone could not like dancing.

"A little of both actually," he chuckles. "I only do it when forced."

"Is that a Jedi thing or just you?"

He grimaces. "Mostly me, I suppose."

Shrugging, Saché gets up.

"Well, Anakin isn't a Jedi yet. So before you have a chance to turn him against it I'm going to get a dance in."

Gliding off as the song ends, she takes off toward Padmé it and Anakin.

Nammy starts hacking and digging in her handbag, shaking her head.

"Young man, it's been an absolute delight to meet you and you are a credit to our species." She gives him a little pat on the hand. "But this old bat needs her air."

Standing and patting him on the shoulder, she totters toward an archway leading to the outside.

The crease forms between Obi-wan's eyes.

Sabé mimics smoking and he chuckles.

"Ah. I see."

Their faces turn and they watch as Nam uses her handbag to smack a few people out of her way and then cut off a man carrying a tray of fruit as she makes her exit.

"Nammy's of the mindset that once you reach a certain age manners are for other people," she explains, giving a weak smile of apology.

"She's very...interesting," he very diplomatically offers.

"Colorful," Sabé corrects. "Most people says she's 'colorful'"

"I can see where you and your sister get your spirit."

Incredulous, she snorts. "Saché is spirited. I'm just...me."

"I disagree." He tilts his head slightly. "I definitely detect a certain spiritedness. You would have to be in order to do your job."

"I'm a people pleaser. I like to be liked if that makes sense. I do well at things because I can't stand the thought of upsetting anyone." Eyes downcast she finished softly, "I'm an actress, nothing more."

Out the corner of her eye she sees him move, as if to reach for her hand, but seems to think better of it and picks up a discarded wine goblet instead and turns it between his fingers.

"Sabé, you're very strong and very brave for one so young. No mere actress could accomplish what you did."

Before she can argue, or at least point out she isn't that young, Saché's bright laughter interrupts them, echoing around the ballroom.

Looking to the dance floor, Sabé spots her sister, head thrown back in laughter, eyes twinkling, beaming at something as she spins Anakin in an offbeat waltz. It's so ridiculous Sabé snorts.

"Madness."

When she turns back, Obi-wan's gaze is also fixed on the dancers.

He isn't enjoying the spectacle as much as she is.

"Obi-wan?"

If he weren't a Jedi she'd say he's worry, scared even, but she can't be sure. Jedi aren't like the beings she's spent her young life studying, mimicking, reading. She may be reading him all wrong.

For a moment he's quiet. Then he sighs.

"I don't know how he's going to adjust," he confesses. "I'm not even sure I'm up to this."

He's only just lost Master Jinn and now he's taking on a charge of him own. He's overwhelmed and unsure, feeling Sabé can commiserate with.

"Everything will work out in the end," Sabé reassures him, knowing it may very well be a lie. "It always does."

His eyes flicker back to the wine glass in his hand. "I certainly hope you're right."

She isn't, but there's no help in telling him that. Hope is all they have sometime. It's all he's probably got at the moment.

They sit in silence for a moment the enormity of the change about to occur, the uncertainty of the future, hanging thickly over them.

Suddenly, Sabé stands, offering him her hand.

Tomorrow might be uncertain, but tonight isn't, first they live.

"Come on, even if you don't like it, you can't go to a Naboovian ball and not have one dance. You'll never live it down."

Worry is replaced by panic on his face as he gently tries to back away.

"No, I don't think it's a good idea. I wasn't joking when I said I don't dance."

"You said you didn't dance unless forced to," she reminds him. "Consider yourself forced."

"And that I'm not very good," he adds, still backing up.

"Well I am. So just follow my lead." She tosses her hair over her shoulder and pouts her lip. "Besides, you don't want to insult one of the Queen's handmaidens do you? It would cause quite the incident."

The music changes over to a slower tune and Sabé steers Obi-wan to the floor, carefully staying at the edge.

Doing the simplest steps she knows, they slowly revolve and sway, never straying far from the outskirts of the ballroom. It takes a few minutes, but he finally eases.

"You know," she gives him a little nudge, "I've heard dancing is a lot like sparring. So you really shouldn't be so keyed up about it."

"Except the in dancing you aren't trying to attack one another, right?" He looks disbelieving she'd use such a bland comparison.

Scoffing, Sabé grins.

"Unless you're one of the pilots. Saché's convinced they are trying to kill us by slowly stomping us to death."

At that moment she spots Eirtaé, rumpled and wide eyed, ducking behind a pillar. Seeing Sabé and Obi-wan, she frantically shushes them from afar.

When Savoon appears on the other side, apparently searching for something, Sabé almost burst out laughing.

She shoves her face into Obi-wan's shoulder to muffle her laughter, surprising him.

"Is she hiding from him?" he asks.

Biting back laughter, she nods.

Somewhere, she knows Saché is cackling maniacally.

#######

The day after the feast they leave.

The Queen and handmaidens stand regally at the port to see off the two heroes of their planet, looking somber and calm.

And sweaty, as Saché was sure to remind Eirtaé as they trooped out.

Padmé kisses an exuberant Anakin's cheek, and each of the handmaidens give him a little hug. Saché's is the tightest though, as if seeing off a little brother.

"Come along Anakin," Obi-wan's calm voice tells his young charge as he taps his shoulder and gestures to the ship.

He still looks ill at ease, uncomfortable in this new role, but he's trying hard to not let it show.

Anakin looks back at the girls, and then his eyes fixed on Padmé.

"I'll see you again."

Padmé nods, smiles gently. "I'm certain we will."

Sabé catches Obi-wan's gaze and gives him a sad smile, wishing she could give him a hug and a kiss to see him off as well. That would be improper though, and she doubts he'd appreciate her sudden show of affection.

He doesn't see her as she sees him. Her crush is wholly and unwaveringly one sided.

He simply gives her a nod of farewell in return and gently leads Anakin away.

The two boarded the ship, and quickly, too quickly, it soars and slips away from Naboo.

#######

That night, sitting cross-legged at the largest fountain in the royal garden, Sabé drops petals into the water causing it to ripple and distort her reflection as she listens to her sister hum.

It's familiar, an old Lorrdian folk song. She thinks she remembers their mother singing it to them when they'd been very small.

"Are you going to mope forever," Saché finally asks, her voice abruptly cutting into the dark.

Sabé's hands still and she stops dropping the petals, but continues to stare at the fading ripples.

"They only just left. Can I not have a moment?"

Saché rolls her eye. "Yeah, but only a moment."

For a few more minutes the sisters sit dropping petals in the water before Saché speaks again.

"You'll get over him, Sabs. First crushes are the hardest."

Sabé bites her lip. "And if I don't?"

Saché sighs dramatically.

"Then you'll never marry, never have any adorable babies, and die an old maid in the elders home with your demented sister."

Sabé rolls her eyes. "Thanks. You paint such an appealing future for me."

"It's a gift." She takes Sabé's hand. "Honestly though, you will move on. It's a teenage crush. You'll have, I don't know, a hundred and one, and before you know it this will be just a fuzzy memory."

Pulling Sabé up, Saché dances a little jig.

"Let's go steal some of Eirtaé's favorite fruit. She's not spoken to me since I set Savoon on her the other night. I don't want to ruin a good thing."

Laughing with her sister, Sabé hikes the familiar path to the kitchen.

She glances up at the stars. They're brighter she thinks.

They can't determine her fate, but she hopes they do incline it to cross paths with Obi-wan's again someday.

Hopefully there won't need to be a war next time for them to meet.

A little peace sounds nice.


End file.
